Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
I smashed my lips together in a thin line and felt a surge of anger well up within me. I was so fucking fed up with Caleb. Hadn’t he messed with my life enough? And now he was ruining my Daddy’s mood too. I wouldn’t freaking stand for it.
After a hasty goodbye, we left MadCo Sec and returned to the truck, and it brought me a little bit of relief when he opened the door for me and wordlessly helped me with my belt. Like, that hadn’t changed. He wasn’t so mad that our Daddy/boy-isms got left behind.
“Where are we going, Sir?”
“To Dean’s place in Georgetown.” He closed the door and rounded the truck, and I was utterly confused. Puzzled. Confuzzled! When he got in behind the wheel, he continued as he started the truck and backed out of the parking spot. “He found a letter in his mailbox.”
Oh no.
My stomach tightened with dread.
“It said, ‘Don’t go near Gael Grimes. He’s mine.’” Santiago tore out of the parking lot, his jaw tense. “You haven’t told anyone you’re in Dean’s class, have you?”
I shook my head quickly. “I mean, no one that Caleb would run across. I think Macklin is the only one who knows the class by its actual name, and Kit knows Dean’s my professor.” By default, their Owners knew too.
“Right. So I think it’s safe to assume Caleb’s been following you,” Santiago deduced. “If he followed you to class, he can see what professor’s assigned to the lecture hall in question. Furthermore, you’ve been to a few of his sessions now, and Dean received this letter today. The day after you were seen in public with him outside campus.”
Oh my God, he could’ve seen me and Dean together outside Macklin’s restaurant—or outside my place. Santiago too!
“That means he’s probably seen you as well,” I said worriedly.
He nodded with a dip of his chin. “The difference between Dean and me is that my name and address aren’t public. It’s possible Caleb’s tried to figure out who I am and failed. My name isn’t written on my forehead either, so he wouldn’t know where to look.”
I gnashed my teeth and looked out the window as rage flowed through my bloodstream. This was fucking it. For the first time ever, I wasn’t afraid of Caleb—I was just furious. I wanted to walk up to him and scream in his face, call him a loser, tell him I’d never loved him, let him know he was fucking useless…
Fuck.
Fucking fuck!
I wasn’t used to being so angry. I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt this much hatred. Sheer, overpowering, ugly hatred.
And a bit of resentment toward myself. How had I ever fallen for his crap? In retrospect—like I’d admitted to my dad after the breakup—there’d been plenty of red flags from the beginning. Caleb’s sense of “humor” consisted of snide digs that he wrapped up in a charming grin and a “I’m just kidding, babe.”
Yuck.
I guessed a part of me had been socially conditioned to be grateful that someone wanted me, so I’d turned a blind eye to the traits that’d bothered me.
It’d been a slow descent for me, those two years. Little things here and there, few and far between, until it got worse and worse, and one day I woke up feeling suffocated. I’d realized I wasn’t merely unhappy, but I’d been depressed. And I’d begun thinking back on all the things that’d gotten me to that point.
It was all him.
“I’m gonna fix this, sweetheart.” Daddy took my hand and threaded our fingers together, and I squeezed back. “I’m waiting for a buddy to get back to me about Caleb’s credit card—”
“It’s not your responsibility—”
“It ain’t about that. It’s personal for me too now. He belongs in prison.”
Pffft, he’d get thirty days or something.
“In the meantime, we’re gonna stay in Mclean,” he said.
I looked to him and frowned.
“Colt suggested it, and I agree with him,” he continued. “We just have to convince a stubborn ol’ professor to join us. Dean might be more difficult to handle than Caleb.”
I made a weird sound as amusement and disbelief collided, and it made Santiago smile a little.
“You’re gonna have to help me convince him,” he told me.
I bit my lip and figured I could tell him about Kit’s genius idea. “Are you sure Dean is interested in playing with me?”
I’d heard the man say it directly to my face, but I just needed some reassurance.
“Baby, he’s more than interested.” He withdrew his hand and checked the rearview before switching lanes. “The problem with men over fifty is that they’re so set in their ways that you gotta push them off an opinion’s cliff to change their minds. Dean is just like you and me—we want someone to share our life with—but he’s gotten it in his head that there’s no one out there for him. That there’s something wrong with him, and that he’s too old to try anymore.”