Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Go to sleep, baby.”
EVE
There’s a buzzing, a sort of annoying bee around my head. I’m warm and safe. Why won’t that buzzing go away? I blink my eyes open and I’m being held tightly by a muscular, tattooed arm. His phone is buzzing and vibrating on the floor.
“Jason.” I wiggle around so that we’re nose to nose and last night comes happily back to me. We made love, and it was amazing. I told him I love him and I know he’ll tell me the same soon. No one can feel the way we do and not love each other. “Jason, your phone.”
He grunts and rolls to his back, bringing me with him. “I hear it—I want a few more minutes with you.”
His gravelly morning voice is my favorite, but did he insinuate that he’s leaving again? No, he wouldn’t. We made love last night. This is a beginning for us.
“Umm, I need to pee.” My voice sounds unsure.
He opens his pretty green eyes and I can’t help but smile at him. We stare at each other and I watch the wall come down over his eyes. In seconds, he goes from Jason to Blade. I turn and get out of bed, reaching down to get his phone and tossing it to him. After I bolt into the bathroom, I lock the door.
“Shit.” I drop to my knees as I try to silently puke. My mind races at the fact that I laid myself out like an open book. Standing, I groan and reach for my toothbrush. He didn’t say shit. I said everything.
“Eve.” Jason bangs on the door causing me to almost drop my toothbrush.
“I have shit that’s going down,” he yells as the door handle jiggles. “Unlock the door.”
I glance at myself and sigh. I’ve definitely looked better, but at least I’m naked and my tits look spectacular. Unlocking the door, I’m greeted with Jason staring at his phone, his tatted arm leaning on the side of the bathroom doorway. “I have to go.”
“Okay.” My voice cracks and I clear it because there is no way I’m going to start crying. No fucking way!
He finally looks up from his phone and for a split second his eyes soften and almost caress my face, moving down my body. Then he pushes off the wall and reaches for my chin. His warm hands smell like smoke. He must have had a quick cigarette.
“You need anything, you call me. You want to go anywhere, you call me.” His eyes are so indifferent I almost take a step back in confusion.
“I want to see my dad.” Then I want to take my nails and claw his chest or better yet his bruised lip. If only I could lean over and—
“I’ll have Dewey take you.” His warm hands leave my face as he turns and grabs his gun out of the nightstand.
“No doctor appointments without me.”
Like I’m a pet, an object. What the fuck was I thinking telling him I loved him? I stare, almost frozen, as my stomach flips and his tall form moves away, the slamming of the door a loud reminder that I’m an idiot. He doesn’t love me. I’m some stupid girl who is going to be his baby momma. Sinking to the bed, I look around. His room is so white it almost makes me nervous. Like the shows on TV where the lead character gets locked in the psych ward and goes crazy.
“God.” I cover my face with my hands, groaning as I remember every single thing I said to him last night. “Why, Eve?” I drop my hands with a loud dramatic thud. I should go back to bed. I look down at his clean black sheets, his spicy scent wrapping around me like the smoke that he exhales from one of his cigarettes. Maybe I’ll wake up and everything I said to him will be a bad dream. Snorting at my delusional and pathetic thoughts, I force myself to stand and make my way into the bathroom. Swallowing back my gag, I almost retch again at the lingering smell of my vomit.
Quickly, I start the shower. The hot water is so fast, I never seem to get used to it.
I close my eyes and let the soothing hot water caress my skin. My mind clears as I formulate a plan. One, never tell Jason I love him again. He doesn’t deserve it and it’s mine to cherish. Two, I need to go steal something. Actually, it’s not even a need; it’s a must, a sense of myself that I have to bring back to life. I need the high. Control. I need control of my life. I turn off the shower with a new strength I haven’t felt in weeks and step out. Wrapping a towel around me, I look at the fogged-up mirror. I don’t need to see myself to know I’m back. I straighten my shoulders and dry off. The clean sink counter is white and empty.