Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“Damn. I guess it was something I said,” she whispered as she watched him, within seconds, mount his sled, start it and ride away. Once again, like the devil was chasing him.
If it wasn’t the devil on his tail, then ghosts sure were.
Silence greeted him when he opened the front door. He was getting home later than normal since he had to work overtime to finish processing a man he arrested. Nox wouldn’t even call him a “man,” as real men didn’t commit violence against women.
The motherfucker had punched his wife three times in the head and knocked her out cold. And it wasn’t the first time Shadow Valley PD officers had visited that home.
It wasn’t even the second.
But hopefully it would be the last.
Unfortunately, knowing how domestic violence cases typically went, it most likely wouldn’t be.
Despite that depressing thought, slapping cuffs on the abuser and reading him his Miranda rights at least gave Nox a little satisfaction. But it would have been a lot more satisfying if Nox could deliver similar blows to the asshole’s head to provide a short but effective lesson on how not to treat women.
He glanced at his cell phone. Since it was almost eight, he was surprised Jackie wasn’t curled up on the couch under her favorite blanket watching one of her cooking shows. She tried to watch those when he wasn’t home, so he didn’t have to suffer through them.
“Jackie,” he called out, “I’m home!”
The house was too damn quiet. Lately, she’d been falling asleep at the drop of a hat, so maybe she went up to bed early.
He did a quick detour through the kitchen and checked the fridge to see if she made him a plate. She did. Once he touched base with her and made sure everything was okay, he’d come back down to reheat his dinner.
Three cups of black coffee and a protein bar hadn’t cut it.
He took the steps two at a time up to the second floor, the only sound besides his own footsteps came from the cool air blowing through the vents.
When he pulled into the garage, he had parked next to her car, so she had to be home, unless a friend picked her up. But normally, Jackie wasn’t leaving the house after eight o’clock and she would have at least texted him to let him know if she was.
He headed down the hallway and when he stepped into their bedroom, he was taken aback by how quiet the room was. The lights were off, but the curtains remained open. The streetlight outside illuminated the room enough so he could see her in the bed.
No, not in the bed. She was asleep on top of the comforter.
He frowned. “Jackie,” he called out softly, not wanting to scare her. He sat on the edge of the bed and gave her thigh a light squeeze. “Jackie…” Why the fuck was she so damn tense? “You okay?”
He shook her gently, but she was stiff.
What the fuck? Something wasn’t right.
Leaning over to the nightstand, he switched on the light…
When Nox shot up on the couch, a bead of sweat slipped down his temple and dripped off his jaw. His chest pumped frantically as he glanced around.
He spotted the book he’d been reading, now on the floor.
He pulled in a deep breath, trying to slow his rapid breathing.
This time he woke up just as he turned and was about to look at the bed.
Thank fuck he woke up in time. Even though he knew what came next.
He’d never forget it.
Going to therapy, attending those fucking group meetings and now dealing with Aaliyah trying to crack open his armor…
All of it was bringing to the surface what he had buried deep almost two years ago.
The nightmares were once again getting worse and coming more often. To the point he no longer wanted to sleep.
Something needed to change if he was ever going to survive.
Because, for fuck’s sake, he couldn’t live like this anymore.
He. Was. Done.
Chapter Eight
The chairs were in a goddamn circle again, so as soon as he sat down, he focused on a spot on the floor so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with the members across from him.
He didn’t care if it made him look anti-social. He was doing what he needed to do to get through it.
He hadn’t had a decent night of sleep for days. His ass was dragging so badly he struggled to think and function. His patience was non-existent and his temper sharp.
With how he left the other night from the coffee shop’s parking lot, he avoided the group leader as she finished setting up cookies next to the coffee and water on the table near the door.
Near the fucking door.
He was sure she had set up the refreshments in that location on purpose. The food and coffee were always where people gathered—and chit-chatted—before the meeting and after.