Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 482(@250wpm)___ 402(@300wpm)
My mother started to crawl away from him, toward the door, sobbing.
“And know this,” he called after her, voice thick with cruel satisfaction. “If you leave today, I’ll never let you back in.”
She paused and looked back, not at him but at the staircase and the second floor, where my bedroom was. She thought I was up there, reading my books, tucked safely away.
But I wasn’t. I had snuck down the back staircase like I sometimes did, wanting to hear why there was so much loud laughter downstairs.
Dad always said it was good to be naughty.
“I’ll fight you,” my mother swore, voice shaking with fury. “He’s my son as much as yours. Courts care about a mother’s rights.”
My father yanked the other woman onto him, his hand twisted in her hair, his head tilting back in pleasure.
“You’re a nobody.” His voice was thick with arrogance. “You have nothing without me. I’ll bury you in court fees.”
And then—
“I hope you took a good look at his face this morning because you’ll never see him again.”
She flinched like he had struck her.
Then, without another word, she climbed to her feet, turned, and walked out.
And I never saw her again.
My fingers dig into the wood, breath ragged. My father was a monster. And the first rule I’ve sworn by since the day I left his estate and never looked back was this: In every situation, do the opposite of what he would do.
I release my grip on the doorframe, pulse roaring in my ears.
Fuck what anyone in my congregation thinks. Fuck the whispers. Fuck if it gets back to the bishop.
She ran out in tortured tears.
And I let her go.
I will not let that be the end of it.
I take off running after her, ashamed of how long it’s taken me to move.
But no matter how many alleyways and streets I sprint down, I can’t find her.
I’m too fucking late.
Another sin to add to the infinite list.
I laugh bitterly as I walk, defeated, back to the church. Let’s be honest.
I was damned the moment I spurted out of that bastard’s cock.
FOUR
MOIRA
I clutch my phone in a white-knuckled grip and stare down at the screen at a text from Anna, my brother’s saint of a fiancée:
ANNA: Come to the club tonight. Domhn and I will be there.
Huh.
I don’t know why Anna is suddenly willing to risk my brother’s wrath by inviting me anywhere, but I’ll take the W.
It’s been a shit week. Ever since I bolted out of that church like a bat out of hell last weekend, I’ve been holed up in my apartment, watching mindless reality TV and subsisting entirely on coffee, stale Pop-Tarts, and regret. I needed to get away the second I sprinted outside those heavy wooden doors, practically diving onto the light rail a couple blocks away the moment it rolled up.
Why the fuck did I think that was a good idea? Crying in some rando church? Confessing my sins to an impossibly gorgeous man who probably went back to his priestly duties with a sigh of relief that the weird, sobbing sinner left him alone?
I scrub a hand over my face and squeeze my eyes shut.
I used to have methods for dealing with my bullshit. Get an itch? Scratch it. A little fun in the club, or a little reckless adventure, maybe a semi-public fuck, and boom—distraction achieved.
But now? Now, the itch is a wildfire under my skin.
I’ve tried to get satisfaction. Believe me, I tried. I pulled out every trick in the book, not to mention every toy in my arsenal. Let’s just say my best vibrator and I have been in an exclusive relationship this past week, and even then—nothing.
That stupidly hot new dom ruined me in just one night after a whole year of not being able to come. He woke something up inside me.
And I hate him for it.
Because what the fuck is the point of glimpsing nirvana if you can’t fucking find it again?
I just need to get back to my old self.
And Anna’s invitation has to mean something, right? A tether to my old life. It’s a sign I’m not completely excommunicated from everyone I love. If Anna’s reaching out, maybe—just maybe—Domhn’s softening. Maybe this is the first step to him talking to me again, even if he never forgives me.
I stuff my phone in my pocket before I can overthink it and shove out of my car, heading inside the club before I lose my nerve.
One of the new bouncers, Kit, grins at me as I walk up. I wink at him and throw a little bounce in my step. He’s new and still starry-eyed about the place. I gave him a couple welcome rides when he started; he’s not bad, just nothing to write home about.
“Miss me?” I tease, trailing a finger down his arm as I pass.