Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Both men and women were not nice, and both could be positively cruel. Yes, I’d had my ass slapped. I’d been called a lot of rude words that I didn’t think children of any age should hear. But I did get to see everyone who arrived in town, which made the diner another great source of protection, While I was making my judgment of people, I was also well hidden. It helped that I wasn’t a pretty girl. I was the kind of woman most people glanced over without a second look. This helped me.
If anyone came to Pickle Quest at my father’s request, I would have time to make my escape, and that was most important to me.
Running away from my father wasn’t the best idea I ever had, but it was the only one that made any sense. Going to my mother was out of the question. My mom was completely in love with Finn, and, well, I was the one at fault for everything. She would gladly sell my ass to the Devil if it meant she’d get a chance to marry Finn.
She had me, and had tried to have more children, but Finn Byrne was a fussy bastard. It would seem he had a taste for women, but once they gave birth, if they didn’t provide him with the right kind of child, then you were all but dead to him.
This should have meant I got to grow up without a father. No such fucking luck. Nope, as much as my mother became dead to him, he kept coming around to play with her. I’d often heard him refer to her as his fuck toy, which was totally gross. She loved it, though, relished every second with him. Finn Byrne was all she wanted.
To be honest, I think she wanted the title he had to offer. It had nothing else to do with Finn. She loved the idea of people being afraid of her. That was the draw for her, the drug. She got a small taste of it and from that moment on, nothing else could compare.
Just thinking about my mother brought back all the anger and frustration I had spent a long time trying to repress. There was a time I worried about the way I felt for my mother. I feared I would turn into the very type of person I hated. The guilt would threaten to completely consume me, but now, I saw the truth.
It had taken me a long time to accept that it’s perfectly fine to not like my parents. Not that it has always been easy to accept. For the longest time, all I ever wanted was to have a family like the ones depicted on billboards, or in cliché movies. Like the dad that wanted to spend time with me and see his little girl grow up, or the mom that didn’t mind baking cookies or making spaghetti sauce from scratch.
That was the life I craved.
I never got it.
In fact, the last time I saw my father, I ended up with a split lip, a black eye, and a cut that bled into my hairline. This wasn’t the first time I’d gotten on my dad’s last nerve. What did I do? I wasn’t pretty enough. He decided I looked too damn ugly, and he wanted to teach me a lesson.
There was a time when he also tried to rip my hair out. Yeah, that sucked. He wanted a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty. What he got was a brown-haired, brown-eyed ugly. That’s what he called me.
Running away was either a stroke of genius, or completely stupid. I hadn’t made up my mind yet which it was. With no one following me, I was happy to think of it as a genius move, but if he ever came for me, then I’d know I was a fucking idiot.
At least Pickle Quest was nice. Don’t get me wrong, none of the locals were very accepting of a stranger. I’d been in town four months, and still, people didn’t like to make small talk with me. Not that I minded. I wasn’t good at small talk, or any kind of talk. It was easier not to get close to anyone. This meant I didn’t have to fabricate any lies. I decided to keep to the basics. I was Niamh Long, twenty-five years old, and my parents were both dead. A tragic car accident. Graduated high school and since then, jumped from job to job as I traveled. Basic, easy to remember, and it doesn’t give anyone the chance to ask questions.
So far, it had worked for me. It was terrifying. I didn’t know if my father was ever going to come after me. I’d not stolen from him or my mom. Even before I left, I had been sneaking around, doing odd jobs, building some savings. The plan had always been to leave. Knowing who my father was, and what he was capable of, meant the only solid plan I had in my life was to run like hell.