Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“It’s not like I don’t see your side of things,” I murmur, choosing my words carefully. If anything, this is something to think about besides the explosion and the fact that Callum could be under attack at this very moment for all I know. “And I’m not saying it doesn’t matter. It does. But I love him.”
“Bianca…”
“I do. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it. You don’t think I tried? You don’t think I told myself so many times this couldn’t possibly end well? Trust me, Dad. I know.”
“And yet you walk into it with your eyes wide open.”
“That’s just my point. There’s nothing else I can do. I can’t force myself to stop loving somebody. Could you force yourself to stop loving Mom?”
“I don’t appreciate you throwing that in my face.”
“I’m not. I’m only trying to show you my side of things. If there was any way I could get through this life without Callum, it would be different. I might be able to walk away. But that’s just it. There is no going through life without him. That’s the only way I can think to describe it.”
Silence falls between us. It doesn’t feel cold, and it’s not tense either. I wish he would say something. I wish I could think of something else to say, anything that might help him understand where I’m coming from.
“I can’t stand watching you walk headfirst into this,” he finally admits. “That’s all. I do want us to have a better relationship. I want us to be a family. But you can’t expect me to be okay right now. I’m driving you to a safe house. Doesn’t that seem out of the ordinary?”
“You know it does. But I’m not running away ever again. I know where I belong.” And when I say the words out loud, when I feel them on my tongue and hear my thoughts being given a voice, I know I’m right. I’m doing the best thing for me and my baby. I’ve chosen this life and everything that goes along with it.
“So long as you’re sure.”
“I am,” I whisper. He sounds so despondent. No matter how much I want to tell myself otherwise, his sadness is going to weigh on me. It’s going to color every interaction we have until the day finally comes when he can move past this ugly, horrible night.
Maybe around the time the baby graduates high school, I guess.
“These new headlights…” Dad’s grumbling stirs me out of my brooding.
Before I can ask him what he means, I flinch away from the intense glare in the side mirror. “I hate those things. They make it a pain to drive at night.”
“It doesn’t help that this guy is up our ass.” He speeds up a little to put space between us and the offending car. “Nobody behind us for a mile, but he has to ride our tail.”
Of all the times for me to laugh… “I remember you teaching me to drive. You always drilled that into my head. Leave at least five car lengths between me and the vehicle in front of me.”
“And do you?” There’s a tiny bit of humor in his question, thank God.
“I hear your voice in my head all the time, so yeah.”
He doesn’t laugh—he’s too busy raising a hand above his eyes now that the headlights coming from behind us are blinding him. “What the hell?”
Sometimes a lifetime’s worth of understanding can pass through a person’s head in the time it takes to gasp. Like a sudden download. So many things materialize all at once, so fast you think your head will split open.
That’s not a random driver.
Wouldn’t this be the perfect time to come after me?
They were counting on this.
This must have been how she felt once she figured out somebody was on her tail.
“We have to get off the road!!” I twist in my seat, looking behind us with a hand shading my eyes. It’s no use. Those headlights blind me to everything else. I can’t make out the car or who’s behind the wheel.
“What do you mean?” My father peers out the rearview mirror.
“I have a very bad feeling.” The GPS says we’re ten minutes from the safe house. “I don’t think—”
The car lurches when we’re tapped from behind hard enough to make the phone tumble from my fingers and into the back seat. “Shit!” Dad grunts out as he fights to regain control of the vehicle.
“We have to get away from this car.” I try not to sound as panicked as I’m feeling.
“You think?” His voice is tight, like a wire pulled taut enough that it could snap any second. He sounds like the cop he used to be. “Face forward and make sure your seat belt is secure.”
“Dad?” I can’t find the breath to finish whatever it was I wanted to say.