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)
Breathe, Pen. Breathe.
You’ve got this.
Terrence
Too much time has passed.
I need to eat. I need to take meds. I need to sleep.
I’m slipping into that familiar cave of despair. Pain curling around my skull, crushing it inside its sadistic fist. Bile rises up my throat as I clench my eyes closed.
This was a bad idea.
By the time we reach the cabin, I stumble out of the truck, making a beeline for the toilet. I puke my fucking guts up as the headache intensifies. The light in the bathroom goes out and then someone is crouching beside me, their soft touch comforting me.
“Eat this,” Charlotte says, handing me a sandwich. “After you get that in you, I have some water and your meds.”
Shakily, I take the sandwich from her and chew it down. I hurt too badly to taste any of it. Once the cool water chases down the food, I take the offered meds. She stands, turns on the sink, and then turns it back off. A cool rag is settled on the back of my neck.
She leaves me in the bathroom, checking on me every so often. Cal and her whisper quietly—thank God—before she comes back for a millionth time.
“Why don’t you go rest?” she suggests. “Dad said it’ll take a bit for the medicine to kick in.”
I slowly rise to my feet and make my way back to the room. The windows have been covered by a blanket that’s been tacked to the wall. I want to hug her and thank her, but the pain drags me into bed instead. The moment the throbbing slows its murderous torture, I pass the fuck out.
Buzz.
It’s dark by the time I wake. I squint at the bright light of my phone that now sits on the nightstand, plugged in. I’m not sure how it got there, but I accept the fact it must have been Charlotte or Cal.
I reach over to fetch my phone to see I’ve missed some texts.
Roan: We’re having a small get-together for New Year’s. You coming?
Me: Sure.
Roan: Cool. Bring a date if you want.
Me: Is your dad available?
He sends me fifty or so middle finger emojis, making me chuckle.
Me: Kidding, bitch.
Roan: You could bring Lacey…
Her name has anger picking at my heart that feels scabbed over. It’s dumb to pine over a girl I slept with one night. We weren’t in love. Hell, she barely even liked me. But, because of that night, I think I might have fathered her kid. A small part of me wonders if I could talk to her, maybe she’d see that I’m not the asshole she clearly wanted to get away from. I could be a family man if I needed to be.
Me: Garrett has a big-ass mouth.
Roan: He’s my father-in-law and you’re one of my best friends. I saw him today and he mentioned what went down yesterday. You think you knocked up Lacey?
Me: Remember when you saw Sebban? That feeling that hit you right in the chest? Like you just KNEW?
Roan: Yeah, man. I do.
Me: That’s how it was. I looked into that little girl’s eyes and just knew.
Roan: So what happens now?
Me: I need to find Lacey. Find out why she’s hiding in Florida and letting her dad babysit my fucking kid.
Roan: I called Samantha to fill her in. She helped me. She could help you.
Me: I don’t have money for that.
Roan: We’ll figure it out.
Me: Gotta run.
I have nowhere to run, but the last thing I need is Roan playing hero when it comes to me. I can handle my own shit. I’ll find Lacey so we can have a heart to heart, and then I’ll see about getting shared custody of my daughter.
What if she’s not yours?
It’d be for the best. I’m damn near handicapped after my accident, barely have a job, room with my buddy, and don’t have a cent to my name. Taking on a kid when I can hardly take care of myself seems like icing on this “Fuck Terrence” cake. Still, if she’s mine, I’ll figure out how to manage.
Blood before bullshit.
I notice another text from Grandma telling me to come get my shit. Another day. Definitely not this one. Slowly, making sure the migraine doesn’t make me its bitch, coming out of the shadows like the boogieman, I crawl out of bed. I grab some clean clothes and head for the bathroom. After a quick shower and brushing my teeth, I follow my nose once again.
Charlotte is my new favorite person.
She’s cooking up something that makes my mouth water. I’m almost to the kitchen where Cal has her pressed against the counter, kissing her like he’s trying to possess her body with his goddamn devil soul when I sense someone, stopping me in my tracks.
“Hey, Smash.”
Penny sits on one end of the couch, giant headphones covering her ears rather than her usual AirPods, sipping on a bottle of water. Her blue eyes are dimmed and dark circles ring her eyes. I knew something was up at tryouts earlier today. She was off. Edgier than usual. A bomb ready to explode.