Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
As I walk up the front steps, it’s hard not to notice the signs of disrepair. The screen door is duct taped at the hinges, and the front window is cracked. Astor’s laid down plywood on the stoop, but the rest of the porch looks like it’s one gust of wind from falling apart. The doorbell doesn’t work when I press it. I walk around to the side door and knock. Still no response. The last time I was on the property, Astor’s daddy came out the back door, so I know that entrance works.
I start around the side when the unmistakable sound of a shotgun being cocked cracks the air.
“Your next step better be in the direction of your truck, Slick, or the Justices will have to fit a funeral in between all those weddings.”
CHAPTER 12
ASTOR
I fight a yawn as I gently brush Dolly. I slept terribly last night. Not only did the hotel bed ruin me, but so did Cane. I thought hotel beds were supposed to be the worst. That was the most comfortable bed I’ve ever slept in. Then you have Cane, who wakes you up in the middle of the night with that mouth of his.
Sleeping alone in my bed last night sucked. I hated every second of it. I was sure I’d crash. I hadn’t slept much when I was in Houston. Cane and I tried to make up for lost time, clearly. Our bodies had been woken up to what we’d been missing all these years.
I’d even debated sneaking out and going over to his place, but I wasn't actually sure where he stayed on the massive Justice Property. There are a ton of houses. He’s likely in the main house, which is as big as a hotel. I’m pretty sure everyone would have been annoyed if I rang the doorbell at two in the morning. So I decided to stay home, but my sleep was restless. I swear in the short amount of time I’d spent with Cane, my body became addicted to him.
I think I got a few hours, but I ended up crawling out of bed early in hopes of getting a jump start on my day. My plan was to wake Dad to have an early dinner and sneak off to Cane’s after he was settled in. I figured he could have his way with me, and then maybe I'd steal some sleep in his bed before I dragged myself back home for the night.
I kiss Dolly on her nose before I toss her brush into the bin. I don’t like to say I have a favorite horse, but she is mine. Mom and I shared her. We’d gotten her when I was ten years old. I’d told her all about Cane today while on our ride. Since I lost my mom, I find I tell Dolly everything. It’s almost like I’m talking to my mom.
I grab an apple, giving Dolly one last treat before I lock the stall to head to the house. When I hear my dad shouting, I take off on a dead run. I’m not completely shocked when I see Cane’s truck parked out front. My eyes gravitate toward where the voices are coming from. I spot my dad with his shotgun. What the hell is Cane doing here? I already told him I’d see him tonight. At no time did I tell him to show up here. Has he lost his damn mind? My father is going to kill him.
“Dad!” I shout, running up beside him. “Put the damn gun down.”
“I will as soon as he gets off my property.”
“I wanted to talk. It’s long overdue.”
“I don’t owe you anything. Not even listening to what you have to say. Now don’t make me repeat myself.” Dad starts to raise the gun to make his warning clearer. A rush of anger hits me.
“Don’t.” I yank the shotgun out of his hand, popping the bullets out as I walk toward the house. I open the door and throw it inside. When I turn back around, both of them are staring at me with wide eyes. My dad starts to speak, but I beat him to it. “Don’t you ever point a fucking gun at someone again.” I seethe, shaking my head. “You need to get your shit together. Father or not, I will not tolerate that. Your anger is out of control.”
“He has no business being here!” I drop my head, feeling utterly lost at this moment. I have no clue what to say or do. I lift my head when I hear the sound of crunching gravel. Marta pulls her Bronco down the driveway, parking on the other side of Cane’s truck.
“Baby,” Cane calls to me. He stands next to his truck, wanting to come to me but not really sure what he should do. Especially with how pissed I am at the moment. Seeing that gun pointed at Cane had scared me into action.