Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 239(@200wpm)___ 191(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
“And you just decided this now?” she asked suspiciously.
“Never been quick on the uptake, darlin’,” I muttered.
“And you think this just changes everything?” She took a step backward, out of my arms, and my hands fisted. I wanted to pull her right back, but she was clearly working through something.
“It’s a step in the right direction.”
“For you,” she hissed. “For me, it’s just falling back into the same craziness that started all of this.” She waved her hands around the empty house.
“You’d rather be back home then?” I asked, getting angry. “Back in that house where you’re flinchin’ every time someone waves? Followin’ your dad’s bullshit rules, watchin’ him beat on your mom and hopin’ he ain’t gonna turn on you? That’s what you want?”
“I didn’t say that,” she yelled in frustration.
I took a deep breath to keep myself from yelling back. “You wanna try and make it on your own? Is that it? Want me to walk away? House is rented for the next six months, you want me to go and let you figure it out yourself?”
“I didn’t say that either,” she replied.
“Then I don’t know what the fuck you want,” I shot back.
“I just want a second,” she snapped. “I want a little time without you in my face, pushing!”
“You need space?” I replied incredulously. “That’s fuckin’ rich.” Jesus, the past was really coming back to haunt me. The irony was fucking incredible. How many times had I told a girl I wanted some space? That I couldn’t be tied down? That I didn’t do relationships? How many times had I walked away when shit started to feel the tiniest bit serious?
“Yes,” she said. “I need to figure things out.”
I scoffed. Figure what out exactly? The options were fucking clear. She had me or she didn’t.
“You got it,” I spat. I took a couple steps back. “I’ll drop some supplies off tonight. Food and shit. A sleeping bag.”
“Charlie,” she called as I walked away. “I didn’t mean—”
“You fuckin’ meant it,” I argued, turning back to look at her.
She stood there in the middle of the room, and she looked so fucking small. I didn’t want to leave her, not now. Not while she was still getting her feet under her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, wringing her hands.
“No problem,” I said with a humorless laugh.
* * *
I’d thought that she’d ask me to stay when I dropped off a sleeping bag and supplies that night, but she didn’t. She seemed determined to be alone, so I left her to it.
I checked on her every day, but nothing changed. She didn’t ask me to stay when a couple days later when I brought her a couch and some dishes from a garage sale. She didn’t ask me to stay after I brought her to the grocery store for supplies, or when I got a smoking good deal on a mattress and dropped it off. I got the phone hooked up for her, but she didn’t call.
It was almost three weeks of barely any contact. I was going crazy. I didn’t understand how my father had let my mother go. He’d had the power to make her stay, no question, but he hadn’t.
I was in a bad fucking mood, snapping at everyone. I slammed my hand inside an engine and threw a wrench across the damn garage. Drank myself to sleep and felt like shit when I woke up in the mornings. It was pure hell, but Vera seemed to be doing just fine.
When I got a phone call at the clubhouse in the middle of the afternoon, I wasn’t expecting it to be her.
“Charlie,” she said, her voice wobbling.
I went instantly on alert, reaching down to make sure my keys were in my pocket so I could leave quickly.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Someone called me,” she said shakily. “They found my phone number in my Gran’s purse.”
My stomach sank.
“She okay?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“No,” she said, the word ending on a sob.
“I’ll be right there,” I replied.
I hung up and hurried outside to my bike.
“Where’s the fire?” Doc asked, staring at me in surprise.
“Somethin’ happened to Vera’s gran,” I replied, distracted.
“You gonna have to go up there?”
“Not sure.”
“Better have some paperwork in hand if you do,” he said cryptically. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I had a feeling we’d stand there talking in circles forever if I didn’t get moving.
“Take care of that for me, yeah?” I asked.
“No problem,” he replied. “I’ll give Manny a call.”
I nodded and fired up my bike.
Vera was sitting on the front steps, her knees pressed against her chest, when I got there.
“They say what happened?” I asked, striding toward her.
Without a word she was off the steps and launching herself into my arms. I barely caught her without going down.