Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 152(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 101(@300wpm)
Not happening.
They’ve already lost a mother, and my father is a no-account shithead—although, thankfully, with the help of a neighbor, he has sworn to remain sober while I’m gone and look after the kids. After a major bender like the one he’s been on, he can usually hold down the fort for a while and I have to trust that, because I have no choice. This task, given to me by Etta, must be completed. My siblings don’t deserve the wrath of a crime syndicate. They don’t deserve any of the scrapped-together life they’ve been handed.
At least we have each other—and that’s the way it’s going to stay.
I must succeed.
Trying not to make it obvious that I’m staring up at the Bat Cave, I sneak a quick look at the wooden staircase winding up the cliff face. Should I just walk up there and knock on one of the giant windows? Maybe pretend to be lost?
No sooner does that thought come and go do I see a man pacing along the edge of the cliff. At the first sight of him, my toes burrow down into the sand and prickles of electricity crawl up my inner thighs. He’s…young. Well, not as young as me. But he’s perhaps in his late twenties, head shaven, tattoos covering his neck like a shackle. It’s windy and cold, but he’s wearing a black T-shirt and doesn’t appear fazed by the temperature at all as the material ripples on his broad chest.
His scowl is terrifying enough to make the tide recede.
“Oh brother,” I mutter, silently cursing Etta to a life of hemorrhoidal discomfort.
This is not a man I can simply approach and ask for directions.
How do I make contact with him? How do I break the ice?
Rather ridiculously, I wave at him. Just a friendly, casual gesture.
A beat passes. Then he gives me the finger.
“Oh.” I turn away, taken aback. “This must be how people feel when they meet me.”
What weapons do I have at my disposal here?
Obviously, he’s not open to making friends.
A memory from last week drifts to the front of my mind. While I was on my hands and knees scrubbing the floor of an office bathroom, I heard a noise behind me and saw one of the daytime office employees in the shadows, taking a picture of my ass on his phone. Then there were the numerous times I’ve been asked out on dates by my Uber passengers. These incidents have led me to wonder if I’m kind of hot. I don’t really have time to worry about my appearance, but…maybe I ain’t so bad?
Maybe I can work with that to make contact with Koen?
Fortune favors the bold.
Before I can overthink my fledgling idea, I stand up and strip myself down to my cheap push-up bra and panties, leaving my pile of clothes on the shore while I wade out into the ocean. Normally, I wouldn’t even leave my valuables unattended on an empty private beach, but the only valuable material item I own is my phone and I didn’t think it wise to carry the device along on this mission, given it holds every piece of information about me when I need to be anonymous.
Just a girl on the beach.
About to freeze to death.
“Oh shit, that’s cold,” I say, my teeth already starting to chatter. The water is also…invigorating, however. Shocking in a way that unexpectedly causes some pent-up emotions to bubble to the surface and I find myself dunking my head beneath the surface, emerging with a gasp. Swimming farther and farther out, forgetting all about the man on the cliff. Letting my eyes well with the tears I haven’t allowed myself to shed in years, my body freezing. My life’s circumstances have tried to smother me. All those hours of work. All the demands to be met since the day I could walk. All the neglect.
But I’m alive. I’m alive. I’m alive.
I’m so caught up in whatever is happening inside of me, I don’t realize how far I’ve drifted from the shore. When I turn around and my clothes are nothing more than a tiny dot, panic tries to seize my lungs, but I don’t let it. Calm down. Make your way back.
Has the sky darkened since I came out here?
My question is answered when rain starts to trickle down from above.
I’m swimming back to land, but I don’t seem to be getting any closer.
Oh God, what is beneath me right now? Probably a great white shark. That would round out my day nicely. Am I in a rip current? Or am I just a terrible swimmer? I used to be a good one. Back in the day, when my mother used to bring us to the beach. Before my father’s hopelessness rubbed off on her. Apparently, swimming is a skill that is forgotten if it isn’t used, because I’m not going to make it back. In fact, I think I might be even farther out than when I started?