Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“You say thank you when someone compliments you.” He pins her with a fierce glare. “Now, Zella.”
“T-Thank you,” she whispers, her brown eyes tearing up.
I have to clench my teeth together so I don’t tell this dude to fuck off. He walks over to the table where I’m sitting and places a hand on my shoulder, making me cringe.
“We’re still working on her manners,” Jack explains, squeezing my shoulder. “Maybe you can help her with that.”
Me? Help with manners? Yeah, right.
“Sure,” I say coolly, suppressing the urge to smack his hand off me.
I need to be here. And appear normal. I’ve never needed to be normal so badly in my entire life. I need this for Zella. For Terrence.
Jack pats my shoulder and then heads back over to the stove. I can’t stop looking at Zella. She’s so sad. Lonely. Afraid. It makes my hackles rise. Jack places a cooked carton of frozen lasagna on a hot plate in the middle of the table. It looks gross as hell, but I don’t say a word. Then, he brings Zella a juice box. After pulling out two wineglasses, he sets one in front of my spot and then his.
I’m seventeen.
Yet, he pours me a large glass of red wine.
I glance at him, frowning.
“I don’t condone drinking on the job,” he says, “but you’re our guest tonight.”
“I’m not allowed to drink,” I remind him.
He winks at me, making my skin crawl. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
Gross.
“Thanks,” I mutter.
We make it through dinner with Jack chatting my ear off about his job at the tire factory. I choke down the lasagna, washing it down with the disgusting red wine. My stomach is queasy by the end of it. I learn that Zella starts preschool tomorrow, but in the evenings if he has to work late, he’ll need someone to pick her up and bring her home, keeping her until he’s done. I’m regretting my decision to do this with each lingering stare of his. But all it takes is one glance at Zella to remind me why I’m doing it.
“Why don’t you clean up in here and I’ll get her ready for bed?” Jack says, rising from his seat.
He wants me to do the dishes. Fucker.
I smile sweetly. “Sure.”
His wink makes my blood curdle. “Come on, Zella. Tell Miss Penelope good night. You’ll see her soon.”
“Bye,” she squeaks out before scampering from the kitchen.
He follows after her, reminding me of a stalking lion. I want to chase after them, but I do as I was told, knowing I need to stay in line. It’s irritating as hell I have to clean up this mess, but I do it as quickly as I can so I can get the hell out of here. I’m just drying my hands off when I feel him.
Close.
Too close.
Inhaling me.
What the actual fuck?
I tense up, fisting my hands, when he curls his hands around my biceps, his body pinning mine from behind. “You remind me of her.”
“Who?” I choke out, trembling with disgust.
“My daughter.”
“Zella?’
“Lacey.”
I should run far, far away from this man, but he has answers I need. “Oh?”
“Very beautiful like you. Compliant. A good girl.”
This motherfucker.
“I, uh, where is she?” I tremble beneath his touch.
“Florida.”
“Why?”
“She had to stay.”
“But why?”
“Because. Enough about her. Let’s have a drink and get to know you better, Penelope.” He squeezes my biceps before letting me go.
My hands shake, so I cross my arms over my chest, suppressing a shiver. He sets to pouring another overly full glass of wine in my glass. I don’t like this or him.
He picks up the two glasses and walks into the living room, placing them on the coffee table. I slowly follow after him, my eyes darting to the front door. I should leave.
“Lacey is Zella’s mother. I’m not really Zella’s father,” he admits. “I’m sure you could tell.”
Fuck.
I need for him to keep talking.
“She doesn’t look like you,” I say, approaching him with caution.
He pats the sofa cushion beside him. “Sit, sweetheart.”
Every step is painful, but I manage to obey. Once I’m seated, he hands me my glass. I don’t want to drink any more of the nasty shit because I feel like I might puke, but I hold it like I plan to.
“Who’s her father?” I ask, trying hard to look innocent.
He pats my thigh, leaving his hand there. “Some things are better left unsaid.”
“I should go.”
“Finish your drink,” he urges. “It isn’t often I get the company of a beautiful girl. Indulge me for a bit.”
“Why did you move to Hood River? Why didn’t Lacey come with you?”
His eyes flash with annoyance and he gives my thigh a rough squeeze. “Hood River is our hometown. We needed a break.”
“From her mother?” I ask, unable to keep the bite out of my tone.
He releases my leg to tug out a package of cigarettes from his front pocket. After pulling out a cigarette, he offers me one. I shake my head in disgust. Shrugging, he lights up, sucking in a deep lungful of smoke.