Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 134045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Which was exactly what I told Keltan over the phone regarding taking over the rent.
He’d tried to argue. Of course he did.
“Keltan, I know you’re trying to be nice here,” I interrupted him as he made excuses. “You have been beyond nice to me and my son. You’re also a super proud, strong, badass guy that can not only take care of himself and his family but has made a business of taking care of other people,” I continued. “Now, it’s apparent that I can’t do that. You’re the reason I still have a family. Not only that, you’ve given me some awesome new girlfriends, your wife included. So the things you’ve given me are almost endless and very definitely priceless. I’m not as strong as you are, but I still have some pride. Please don’t damage it by not letting me pay my way in the house that my son sleeps in. You’re a nice guy. I know you wouldn’t do that.”
There was a long pause on the other side of the phone. A muttered curse. “I’ll send you the details,” he muttered.
I sagged in relief. It was a small victory, but considering all the losses I’d had lately, it was a big one. “Thank you.”
“Just wanna get something clear,” he said. “You are strong. One of the strongest women I’ve met. I’m blessed to be married and to know some fuckin’ strong women too. Don’t you talk about yourself like that. Also, no matter what appearances say to the contrary, I’m not strong enough to protect my family from everything. Now, given the fact I almost lost my wife ‘cause of that, you know I’ll die makin’ sure I protect them from everything in my power. Life has a way of happening so even the strongest of us can’t protect the ones we love. Just happy to be in the position where I can help you with that.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter so I didn’t collapse on the floor—I was only allowed to do that once—and stared out at a white fence. It taunted me. Flayed me.
I fucking hated that white fence.
I hated that I couldn’t hate Lance as much as I despised that fence.
“Thanks,” I said to Keltan, once I’d regained my composure.
“You hold tight, okay?” Keltan said. “We’re gonna keep you safe. Keep your boy safe.”
He was right.
They’d done that.
Greenstone Security kept us safe.
Just not my heart.
But that was my job to protect.
And I didn’t do it.
The Greenstone women had rallied around me since Lance left, none of them saying a word about his absence.
Karen had plenty of words to say about it. As did Eliza. None of them good. Granted, Eliza was the one that found me crying on the living room floor when she’d walked in, originally to steal some pie I told her I had.
She bore the brunt of my breakdown.
Karen arrived at some point too. I didn’t remember much about that night.
Just the pain.
Breathing through it.
The next morning, I was resolved not to be the woman collapsing on the ground under the weight of her sorrow. I would not let misery seep into this house that was only just turning into a home.
So I put on my brave face.
Lied to my son, for the very first time, told him Lance had to go on a trip to help someone and that he’d be back soon.
I didn’t have the heart to say he’d never come back.
It was not great parenting, but it was the best I had.
Nathan had been distracted enough by his new obsession with football—though five-year-olds didn’t play full contact, as if that was something I’d let happen if they could—with the constant visitors we had, and with Duke, helping where he could.
Nathan was currently distracted by chasing Rogue around the garden while Rosie and I talked inside.
It was about something important, I knew that. Especially since she’d poured me wine without even asking if I wanted any.
“I’ve found more,” Rosie said, voice gentle, eyes the same.
I braced. Because Rosie was a lot of things, and though she was kind with one of the biggest hearts I’d ever experienced, she was not what anyone would call gentle.
So I braced. Because if Rosie, of all people, thought I needed gentle, then something hard and painful was coming.
“More what?” I asked, trying to sound strong, prepared.
I took a sip of my wine to help with that.
She reached over to squeeze my hand, the one not holding a glass of wine. “More women. More survivors of that roach I refuse to call a man.”
I blinked, quickly, understanding exactly what Rosie meant. What she was saying. There hadn’t been much more news about Robert, apart from he was visiting his father in Virginia and they couldn’t pin the fire on him. We still had a full security detail.