Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Can’t I pick up my hardworking little sister and treat her to dinner after a long shift at her thankless job?” He waits until my seat belt’s buckled to shift into gear and roll the old beast forward.
Ignoring all the sarcasm, I glance over at him. “Usually you’re too busy.” Damn, I didn’t mean to sound so critical.
“I know.” He reaches over and pats my leg. “How was work?”
“Slow. Boring. I think Becky’s going to quit, and she’s my favorite person to work with.”
“She the pretty blonde girl who’s into horses?”
I roll my eyes. Is there a “pretty blonde” my brother doesn’t notice? “Yes. She’s smart and fun to talk to. Makes the night go faster when she’s there.”
“Everyone’s gotta move on from Miller’s Farm eventually.” He shrugs.
I bite back a sarcastic reply. “I know.”
My stomach rumbles and I glance at the clock in the dash. “Where are we going this late?”
He flashes a quick, apologetic smile at me. “The bar.”
Happiness flutters in my chest. “Fine by me. I love visiting. Reminds me of Nana and Grandpa.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “Living in their house doesn’t?”
“Well, duh, yeah. You know what I mean.”
He huffs a soft laugh. “Yeah, I know.”
It’s dark by the time we approach the old road leading to the bar my grandparents owned and operated for years. Neon lights cast a warm glow around the small, cabin-like structure. “Geez, I never realized how…deserted it seems out here.”
“Tell me about it.” He sighs and drums his thumb against the steering wheel.
“How does anyone even find the place?”
“They don’t. Not since most of the factory jobs left.” He pulls the SUV around the building and rolls to a stop by the side door. “I’m working on a few things to bring in more traffic.”
I can’t even imagine what that might entail. Remy has so much responsibility on his shoulders, and I don’t do nearly enough to help him out. I’m another mouth for him to feed, another problem he inherited.
“Do you ever wish I hadn’t moved in with you?” I ask.
Slowly, Remy turns toward me. Even in the weak glow from the security lights, I glimpse the pain flashing in his eyes. “No way, Molly. Never. Is that how I make you feel?”
I stop and consider our arrangement. Remy has never complained about me living with him. Because he felt like he no choice? “I don’t know…Do you even like me? Or do you just feel obligated to take care of me because you’re my brother?”
“Molly,” he breathes out, hurt twisting in his voice. He reaches over and slides one of his hands over mine. “Yes, I like you. You’re one of the smartest people I know. And clever as hell. You’re always saying something that makes me laugh, no matter how shitty or hopeless I’m feeling.”
“What do you feel shitty and hopeless about?”
“Never mind.” He pulls his hand away and stares at the building. “What brought this on? Why would you think I don’t like you?”
“I don’t.” I shrug, feeling childish for letting one of the random dumb thoughts constantly circling my head escape my mouth. “I wish I were more independent.” I force a laugh to lighten things up. “It’s embarrassing I don’t even have my license yet.”
“Why? So you can run over to Griff’s place?”
Anger tightens my jaw. Of course, that’d be what he thinks. “No. So I don’t have to beg my friends for rides, or depend on Griff, or you, or take the bus. And how am I supposed to get to college next year without a car?”
“Fuck.” He sits up and rubs his hands over his face.
“And speaking of college,” I continue since I have his undivided attention, “unless I take a year off to work and save some money—”
“No,” he snaps. “I don’t want you doing that. It’ll be too hard for you to go back.”
“Remy, even community college is expensive.”
“There’s some money for you to go to college, Molly.”
From where? “If I’m going to apply for any financial aid, I need a parent or guardian to fill out forms…I’m…scared to approach Dad about it—”
“Don’t.” He slaps his hand against the steering wheel. “Don’t you dare go see him. Or ask him for a fucking thing. I don’t want you alone with him again. Ever.”
At first, his intense reaction pokes my defensive streak to life, but something about his tight expression says his anger isn’t directed at me.
He’s mad at himself.
“Remy,” I say gently. “It’s not your fault.”
“The fuck it’s not.” He stops assaulting the steering wheel and stares at me. “I knew what a violent asshole he was…is. He treated Mom like shit, even once she got sick, but I never saw him put hands on her. I figured he beat my ass because I was a boy who could take it, and he wanted me to toughen up.” He turns in his seat, reaches over, and takes my hands in his. “I never, ever thought he’d hurt you, Molly. I swear. I wouldn’t have left you alone with him if I thought he’d treat you that way.”