Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
God. How did I even handle that? I hadn’t thought about it before, but the rest? That was a lot of money I owed someone.
And I kept my mouth shut because Stone would say it was his dad paying back a debt to us, but bullshit. I remembered what that last cookbook said.
“What happened with my dad and your mom?”
I had to know.
Stone didn’t reply, though. He kept quiet, and I saw he was taking me to my house. He pulled up in my old parking spot, turning the engine off. When he opened the door and got out, I went after him.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, making his shoulders hunch over. “You said you didn’t want to risk hating your dad. I won’t do that to you.”
I gulped. A lump sat in my throat. “So it’s something I’ll hate him for.”
He stopped, turning to look at me. His eyes were kind, and that threw me. Stone was never kind. He was gruff. He could be sweet. He was fierce. He was dead-like, but he was never kind. He might talk kind, but his eyes never matched the emotion. It was just how he was.
“I highly doubt that.”
“Did they have an affair?” That was the worst I could imagine. It would make sense how he was fired.
Stone hesitated.
“Stone.” I grabbed his arm. “Tell me.”
“There was no affair.”
My shoulders relaxed. That was good, but… “What, then?”
“Fuck.” He raked a hand over his head. “Can we do this in your house?”
I led the way to the back exit, going down the stairs and opening the door. Once inside, I went into my bedroom and to the door that opened to the rest of the house. Listening, I didn’t hear anything, not that I expected anyone to be home.
“Who’s all here?” Stone asked, shutting and locking the exit door and shutting the door that opened to where I could either leave or use the bathroom. Once that was closed, I closed mine and we were encased in my bedroom.
My hand fell, lingering. Then I turned the lock.
Stone noticed, his eyes darkening, but he sat down on my bed. Staying on the edge, his hands still in his pockets, he leaned forward. But those eyes, they were tracking me as I moved to the desk, standing, pausing, debating, then going and moving to sit at the opposite end of my bed. My back to the headboard, I pulled my pillow to my lap and hugged it to my chest.
Maybe it was a barrier against whatever he was going to say, a type of armor for the words meant to do damage that he’d volley at me, or maybe it was just against him. I didn’t know.
“Tell me.” I just needed to know everything because I was sick of ‘processing’ goddamn everything.
He cursed again, another hand raking over his head. “There was an incident one night. That’s all.”
“What incident? And why are you evading this question? You don’t evade anything.”
A half-gargled laugh came from him, one that I had never heard. That really sent my eyebrows up.
His eyes closed. His head hung down, and his shoulders lowered. “My mom drove drunk one night.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” he bit out. “Not a great defining moment for our family, but I’m starting to learn that that pales compared to what my dad did. But yeah, she drove drunk from wine night with her friends. She was fucking trashed. Your dad was driving home, found her on the side of the road.”
“Oh no.”
“She was naked. Car was in the ditch. She was barely able to stand.”
“Oh no.” A whole different connotation to my voice.
“He got her home safely. Went back with my dad and they both got the car out of the ditch, too. Then the next morning my mom said that your dad made a pass at her.”
“What?! He didn’t, did he?”
He shrugged, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I can’t see your dad ever doing that, and I can see my mom trying to make something up to cover up her own embarrassment. She made up that lie and hopefully that’s what my dad would cling to and get mad about, maybe her driving drunk would get overlooked. That was her plan, at least. I knew about the accident, about what my mom said. I didn’t know my dad fired yours. I swear, but now I’m wondering if that’s why your dad got fired. Because of my mom.”
I sat there, letting all that sink in.
My dad didn’t do what she said. I knew it, felt it in my bones, and looking up, I saw shame on his face. He was ashamed of what his mother had done.
I scooted forward, taking his hand. “Hey.”
He shot to his feet, starting to pace. “Don’t!”
“Don’t what?” I sat back, not prepared for this.