Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72895 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I had, inadvertently, become Suzie fucking Homemaker in the flesh. The worse part? I didn’t hate it—or myself.
Colm appreciated the way I kept the home nice and neat, the way I was always dressed nicely and wore makeup when he arrived home.
“Hey babe, you look hot today,” he’d always say, greeting me with a kiss that I felt down to my toes. It wasn’t the absent peck my dad offered up to my mom. No, this was the kiss of a man in love. A man who couldn’t get enough of touching his wife.
Sometimes the kiss would lead to a pre-dinner fuck right there in the kitchen. Or the laundry room. Or the small room he used as a home office. He was insatiable for me and knew just how to get me off, which I loved. Every fuck, every orgasm helped erase the memories of my summer with Owen.
“My cock would live in you if he could,” he growled and kissed me one last time before tucking himself away.
I would blush prettily afterward, still not used to accepting compliments without ulterior motives. “Thanks.”
“Come and let me get a good look at you.” He would flash that wide grin, looking me up and down as he took my hand and made me do a little twirl while he whistled at my appearance. “I must’ve done something right to get the prettiest wife in all of Nevada.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re sweet, Colm.” I sincerely believed that with every fiber of my being. No man had ever spoken to me that way, and my dad sure as hell never said things like that to my mom. To me, Colm was everything.
Until he wasn’t.
Not even a year into our marriage, the real Colm emerged.
I was in the kitchen pulling bread I’d just made from the oven when I heard the front door slam.
“Hey, babe,” I called out, “I’m in the kitchen!”
I smiled, excited for him to see me in the new pink dress I bought because he loved the color on me. I turned with a welcoming smile for my husband and gasped at the sight of him.
“Colm, what happened?” My fingertips brushed the edges of a quickly-forming black eye.
He pushed me away. Hard. “Fucking Marsden cheated me. He fucking cheated me.”
I could smell the alcohol on his breath, as strong as if it had come straight from the bottle.
“That motherfucker thinks he can cheat me and get away with it. Well, he can’t.”
I knew that look well; it was the same look he wore whenever he was about to do something stupid. Something that would require Cillian to step in to clean up after him.
Again.
I sighed and pushed him into a kitchen chair, hoping a little TLC would soothe his wounded ego. “Let me get you some ice to take down the swelling.”
“I don’t need no fucking ice, Sadie. I need that ten grand.”
I turned in surprise. “Ten thousand dollars?” Who on earth played cards for so much money? I knew people at the casinos did serious gambling, but who risked that kind of cash just for fun?
Colm scoffed. “It’s nothing, and the amount isn’t the fucking point. That money is mine, and he stole it from me.”
He’d lost it; even I knew that much. Colm had no sense when it came to cards. He was superstitious and discounted the importance of being able to read your opponents, two skills I’d learned from too many hours spent with Uncle Seamus.
“I’m sure you’ll win double that tomorrow.” I wasn’t sure at all, but that was what a good wife did, right? She lifted her husband up when he was low and boosted him so he would do better the next day.
For my efforts, I was rewarded with the hardest backhand I’d ever felt.
“Don’t fucking patronize me, Sadie!” His voice was a loud, angry roar, and I looked up at him in wide-eyed shock, afraid to move from the cold marble floor. I couldn’t believe he had just hit me. Colm, my sweet and loving husband, had just hit me.
My cheek stung like hell, and I was terrified to even lift my hand to touch my cheek.
“Fuck!” He looked down at me, half in anger and half in shock, but he brushed off the latter and continued to glare at me. “Get off the goddamn floor. Where’s dinner?”
And just like that, the abuse started and never ended. Colm went to wash up for dinner, and when he returned, it was like the backhand never happened. He wore a gentle smile and told me I looked pretty, but the words didn’t touch me the way they had just twenty-four hours before.
“I said you look really pretty today, Sadie.”
“Thank you,” I responded, my words stiff and insincere.
“What’s for dinner, babe?” He flashed that same grin that looked more sinister than charming that night.