Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“Wow.” I utter a wry laugh. “You have a warped way of looking at things.”
“Nothing is warped where my freedom is concerned.”
My reply is bitter. “So you’re investing in your freedom.”
“I’m glad you get it.”
“I so badly want to tell you to go to hell,” I spit out.
“Don’t.” He fixes me with a narrow-eyed look. “You won’t like the consequences.”
I grit my teeth to prevent myself from doing exactly that.
“I’m taking you to Nicole right now,” he says. “I want her to rerun the tests.”
“That’s ridiculous. The gynecologist I saw is a very capable doctor. You can run the tests again, but you’ll only get the same results. Besides, as I’m anemic, more blood tests so shortly after I had one are probably not a good idea.”
He holds out a hand. “Give me the prescription.”
Sighing, I fish the piece of paper from my bag and hand it to him.
He scans over it before instructing in a no-nonsense manner, “I want the blood test results too.”
“It’s on my phone.”
“Send it to me.”
“Why?”
“I want a second opinion.”
It’s futile to argue. I take out my phone and pull up the app with my test results before forwarding it to him.
“I’m sending this to Nicole,” he says, typing on his phone. “If she wants to see you, I’m taking you straight away.”
“Don’t you need an appointment?”
“She’ll make time for us.”
“Jeez.” I cross my arms. “You must pay her well.”
“She’s a friend.”
A good one, obviously.
“You should’ve also told me you needed money,” he reprimands. “That’s why your fridge was empty.”
I don’t bother to validate the statement with a reply.
“Livy told me everything,” he adds.
“You went to see Livy?”
He shrugs. “She invited me for tea.”
“Don’t you dare touch her.” Fear for the woman who’s been like a fairy godmother to me quickens my pulse. “If you lay a finger on her—”
“I already told you, that’s up to you.”
Hold on. “Why did she invite you for tea?”
“To talk.”
“About what?” I ask, a nasty suspicion growing in the pit of my stomach.
“She warned me not to break your heart.”
I just about die of mortification. “She did not.”
He doesn’t reply.
“What did she tell you?” I ask, holding my breath.
“About your mother. That you don’t pay rent for the apartment.”
Embarrassment burns a path up my neck. “She had no right to share those details with you. That’s private.”
“Don’t blame her.” He grins. “I’m your boyfriend, remember? Even if I have to say so myself, she approves of your choice.”
I gape at him, chagrin and anger making a potent cocktail of emotions in my chest. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Don’t hold it against her. She’s a nice old lady who’s looking out for you. I would’ve found out eventually.”
I don’t have to ask how.
“The only question that remains is why him?” he asks. “Why did you go to Justice Kearney for the money?” When I only lock my jaw, comprehension washes over his features. The set of his mouth turns hard. Contempt rides on his words when he makes his own deduction. “He’s the father of your baby.”
I don’t acknowledge that truth either. It speaks for itself.
In a flash, he goes from broody to downright murderous. “What happened in his office? Did he touch you?”
I stare at his thunderous expression with confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”
He bites off every word. “Did he fucking touch you?”
“No,” I cry out. “It’s not like that between us, not that it’s any of your damn business.”
Gripping my face in his hand, he splays his fingers over my cheek. “You will never go to that asshole for money or for anything else again. If I catch him near you, I’ll break his fucking hands. I’ll flatten each of his fingers and turn his bones into pulp. If he as much as brushes against you, I’ll peel every inch of his skin off his body.”
My jaw drops at the gruesome threats. The worst is that he means it. There’s no bluffing in his serious, determined gaze.
“If you need anything—whether it’s one dollar or a thousand, food or rent, or just a warm cup of fucking tea—you will ask no one but me.”
More confused than ever, I ask, “Why?”
An unfriendly smile curves his lips. “Do you need to ask?”
“I don’t understand,” I whisper.
“Your life belongs to me.” He emphasizes the point by tightening his hold, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “Is that clear?”
Too frightened to do anything else, I can only nod again.
“Good girl,” he praises, easing his grip and brushing his thumb over my bottom lip. He leans closer, encroaching on my private space and forcing me to crane my neck to look up at him. “Now that we understand each other on that point, we can move to my next question.” His voice drops, his words dangerously soft. “Did you want him to touch you?”