Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
My whole body shakes as I try to control the rage inside me. Norah’s mother and her motherfucking ex had the nerve to dig up Jessica from whatever hole she’s been hiding in and convince her it’d be a good idea to fleece me for more money—or whatever the hell this is—just so they could have the upper hand.
Fuck. That. They don’t have it. No matter how much they think they do. And I sure as shit know someone who has the ultimate upper hand over them. “Pete,” I say, steeling my voice to keep it from thundering. “Call Norah, please. Tell her I need her to come down here with her letter. Tell her I need her to do it now. And tell her…I’m sorry.”
“Ben—”
“Just do it, Pete.”
The sheriff picks up the phone on his desk, scans through some of the phone numbers written on his calendar, and then starts to dial. While I wait, the reality of what I’m asking of Norah sits heavy on my shoulders. I know I shouldn’t ask her to do this.
I hate that I’m asking her to do this.
My stomach churns over the fact that I’m robbing Norah of her choice—something that’s been done to her her whole life—but when it comes to Summer, I don’t have one either.
I don’t have time to mess around. I don’t have time to fight this any other way. I need to be with my girl, and I need these assholes gone.
“Norah, honey, it’s Pete… Uh-huh… Listen, I need you to come down to the station. Ben says you’ve got some sort of letter he needs you to bring… Yep… Okay, darlin’, see you soon.”
As he hangs up, Jessica’s face turns bitter. “Who’s that? Your newest whore?”
“Ben, don’t say it.” Sheriff Peeler stands up and throws a finger toward me, already anticipating the worst.
I close my mouth and sigh again. Evidently, Pete is bound and determined to keep my foot out of my mouth today. I’ll have to remember to thank him later.
“Look,” the man in the suit says, speaking for the first time. “We’re here because my client was coerced, bribed, and extorted into signing away her parental rights so that Mr. Bishop could have full custody. My client was desperate at the time, but she’s had time to consider how wronged she was and, further, has shared with me that Mr. Bishop is not, in fact, the biological father. We move to submit for DNA testing immed—”
“Bullshit!” I snap, Sheriff Peeler’s advice wearing off in a blink. “Summer is my daughter.”
“Ben, calm down,” Pete coaches, rounding the desk to put a hand on my chest. I glance through the glass on the top half of his door as he spins me around and find Thomas and Eleanor smiling. “You getting riled up is exactly what they’re after. Now, Miss Norah says she’s coming with the letter, whatever that means, and she says your sister is on her way too. Evidently, she’s spoken to your lawyer. So, just stay calm, all right?”
“I’m not calm,” I reply instantly. “I’m not calm at all, Pete. Summer’s…time is running out, and I’m here. Do you understand me?”
Pete nods, the motion jerkier than usual. “I understand, Ben.”
Gently, he urges me out the door of his office and over to the other side of the empty bullpen. He pulls out a chair, and I sit in it, facing out the window rather than wasting any of my precious sight on the clowns and their puppet Jessica.
Time feels like it takes forever, but in reality, the clock on the wall only moves forward twenty minutes before I see them coming, dust kicking up from the gravel lot as they slide into a space in Breezy’s rental. Clay’s truck is right behind them and pulls into a spot with a skid of his brakes. Norah jumps out of Breezy’s passenger’s seat, still wearing my T-shirt but having added a pair of pants. My sister folds out of the driver’s seat, and Josie climbs out of the back.
When Clay is out of his truck, he and Josie walk into the police station right beside each other without their usual anger-fueled tension. If anything, the four of them appear to be a single unit, ready to come to my rescue together.
I guess my being taken into the police station brings even the most unlikely together.
Spinning my chair, I stand and walk toward Thomas and Eleanor, concern for Norah when she sees them my primary concern. Thomas’s eyes widen at my approach, and he scrambles back, bumping first into a desk and then into an empty chair.
I smile at his fear.
“Sheriff!” Eleanor yells, pulling Thomas to her side. “Your prisoner is approaching us!”
Pete actually laughs. “I can see that, Mrs. Ellis.”
“Well, then do something about it! And it’s Mrs. Ellis-Prescott!” She smirks like that means something to Pete, but New York society last names mean fuck all in Red Bridge.