Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I watched him disappear over the small hill overlooking the parking lot, then turned back to the game just in time to catch Dominic full-body check another kid.
I winced.
Dominic got pulled from the game with forty-three seconds remaining.
On the bench, he received a lecture from his coach, followed immediately by one helluva lecture from me when I marched over there once the game whistle blew.
Dominic was pissed. Anger was pumping through him so hard, I knew his limbs were shaking from rage and not the typical adrenaline one would feel when playing a sport.
I didn’t care. I still lectured him.
Then I informed him of Sean’s offer, which seemed to be the equivalent to dangling a fat, juicy steak in front of a starved lion. Dominic’s eyes lit up, he smiled, his anger left him, and I would’ve bet money on him salivating.
He was very interested in putting holes in walls.
I was trusting Sean. I had a feeling this would help.
As promised, I shot him a text ASAP, letting him know Dominic was in.
Sean didn’t text back, but I wasn’t sure he was the texting type. I knew some guys just weren’t. They did phone calls or nothing. So I didn’t take offense.
Then as I was stocking up on stationery supplies at Michael’s half an hour later while the boys moaned in discomfort behind me, my phone beeped.
Be there at nine.
Apparently, he was the texting type. I grinned.
People were just full of surprises.
Chapter Eight
SEAN
It was ten to three when I pulled up to Whitecaps the next day with Shayla’s brother on the back of my bike.
We’d had a full morning of demolition. A good bit of the afternoon too. Tearing apart shit was a good way of letting off steam, and thanks to the dump I was living in, I had a lot of shit to tear apart. The half wall separating the living room and dining room needed to come down, there was a dead tree out back in the yard threatening to cave my fucking roof in, and I wanted to take out a wall separating the two spare bedrooms to allow for one bigger bedroom.
It was a lot of work. I knew we wouldn’t get it all done today, but I kept that to myself. I figured this kid would need some time to get all that anger out of him. I had enough jobs to keep him busy for a few days, at least.
It was a start.
The half wall came down first.
Once I’d handed Dominic the sledgehammer and gave him the go-ahead, he didn’t waste any time and swung that thing like there was a face he was putting holes in.
While he did that, I worked on other shit that needed to be done and gave him some privacy, installing new cabinet doors in the kitchen and fixing the wall socket in the bedroom I was staying in so I could have some light.
Dominic came and found me when he was finished, his shirt soaked through with sweat and his knuckles bloodied, grinning.
I eyed his hands, pausing my work on the outlet, and questioned, “You get tired of swinging?”
“Nah.” He smirked. “Just wanted to punch something.”
“Yeah? You like that weird-as-shit game you were playin’ yesterday?”
“Lax? Fuck, yeah, I like it. It’s my life.”
“You break your hands, you won’t be playin’,” I warned him. “Might wanna think about that.”
Dominic frowned, looking at his knuckles.
I screwed the outlet cover back on and tested the switch. The overhead light turned on.
“You clean up the mess?” I asked him, tucking the screwdriver into my back pocket.
His brows pulled together. “Mess?”
“You knock down my wall?”
“Yeah.”
“Is there wall shit everywhere?”
His mouth twitched. “Basically.”
“Go clean it up,” I ordered.
Instantly, his mouth quit twitching, and he glared. Then he cursed under his breath and stalked away, and minutes later, I heard all kinds of noise coming from the other room.
He was back to being pissed off. That was good. The whole reason for Dominic being here was to work out his anger, and to do that, I needed him to stay angry. No way was an hour’s worth of demolition enough to wear this kid out. He had more in him. A lot more.
So even though I could’ve helped Dominic clean up, I didn’t. And instead, told him where the broom was so he could sweep up the drywall dust when he thought he was finished.
That pissed him off more. Especially when I stood there watching him while taking a soda break.
“Are your arms broken or something?” he griped while scooping up dust into a pan.
“Nope,” I returned.
“So why am I doing everything? You can’t help?”
“Can help. Just won’t.”
He scowled and shook his head, dumping the dust into the nearby trash can.
I drained the can of Coke, crushed it, then tossed it into the trash can as I crossed the room, heading for the door. “Finish with that, then meet me outside,” I ordered.