Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
After a bitch of a day at work, I pull up outside my house and sit in the driver’s seat for an age. This place is too big for me. Me, on my own. On a sigh, I peel myself from the leather seat of my BMW and pull my briefcase out with me. It’s Friday. What am I going to do with myself all weekend?
Get drunk.
Get drunk.
And get drunk.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call sarcastically, trudging toward the kitchen.
Todd’s head pops out from around the door, a mischievous gleam in his eye. It stops me in my tracks. “Evening, dear.” He strides toward me and pulls my suit jacket from my shoulders, draping it over an occasional chair in the corner of the entrance hall.
“What are you doing?” I ask, following his every move with narrowed eyes as Steve comes bolting out of the kitchen with a sock in his gob, his tail whipping madly. I reach down and give him all the fuss he wants. And deserves. He’s been my shadow, following me around the house non-stop, looking at me with those droopy eyes. He knows I’m not right.
“I have a surprise for you.” Todd tugs me up and links arms with me, starting to walk us onward.
I immediately break free. “No, I don’t like your surprises.” They usually involve women, mostly naked, and lots of alcohol. Alcohol is okay right now. Naked women, however, won’t be okay, if only because I can’t have the woman I actually want.
He pouts, over the top, and bats his eyelashes at me.
I throw him a filthy look. “I’m taking Steve to the park.” And me to another pity party. I head for the stairs.
“I bet you’re not,” Todd counters, confident and cocky.
I laugh. “I bet I really am.” I make it halfway up the stairs before a sound from the kitchen stops me. I look over my shoulder, finding Todd grinning. “What was that?”
He shrugs, all nonchalant. “Off you go for your walk.”
I turn, intrigued, hearing another sound, this time clearer. “Is that . . .?” I take the steps back down and jog toward the kitchen, feeling life in my bones for the first time in a week. Skidding to a stop at the threshold, I see her immediately.
“Daddy.” Tia dives off the bar stool and flies across the kitchen towards me, crashing into me with force.
“Oh, God, it’s so good to see you.” I gather her up and make up for the cuddles I’ve missed since she went traveling. “What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t due back until April.”
“Change of plan.” She takes a step back and inspects me, pulling at my rumpled suit. “You look awful.”
“Thanks.” I follow Tia’s lead and drink in my girl. What’s happened to her? She’s wearing clothes that are a hundred times too big. “What’s all this?” I ask, pulling at the cotton things hanging from her tiny waist. “Are these trousers?”
“Yes.” She widens her stance to demonstrate, revealing the crotch of the trousers hanging past her knees.
“And your hair looks . . . grubby.” My nose wrinkles, wondering where her perfectly glossy chocolate waves have gone.
She smooths over it, rolling her eyes. “Shampoo is about the worst thing for your hair.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Anyway, I want you to meet someone.” Moving to the side, she opens up my line of sight to the breakfast bar. I groan under my breath, hearing Todd chuckling from behind me. “Dad, meet Trent. Trent, this is my dad.”
Stig of the Dump struts on forward, smiling broadly. His nose ring is the first thing I note, followed by his masses of blond dreadlocks and the pink bandana holding them back from his face. He has some of those stupid trousers on too, the crotch even lower than Tia’s, and his arms are weighed down by millions of wrist bands in various shades of leather. “Mr. Williamson, it’s so nice to meet you.” He speaks with a thick American accent, reminding me that he’s from the opposite side of the fucking world.
“Trent the River,” I say under my breath, my elation that my girl is home dying fast.
“Tia doesn’t shut up about you.” He gives me a firm, manly shake, which is ridiculous when he’s standing here wearing this shit. His eyes twinkle when he looks at my girl, and Tia’s virtually explode with happiness. She doesn’t shut up about me? Pride muscles in on my slighted state.
“We’re close,” I say for the sake of it, or perhaps to remind The River that any attempts to abduct her and ship her off to his homeland will be fought with violence.
“Oh, I know.” He drops my hand in favor of Tia’s shoulders, pulling her into his side and kissing her grubby hair. “We weren’t allowed to go anywhere until she’d come to see you.”