Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
For a while, we’re quiet.
Closing my eyes, I lean my forehead on the wheel.
“I’m not trying to be hard on you, Bella. I’m only looking out for you.”
I sigh and sit up. “I know.”
When I spot Ryan pulling up behind me in the rearview mirror, I cut the engine. “I won’t be long.”
Colin gets out when I do, a question burning in his eyes. I take the steps to the hall two by two and slow down when my underwear brushes over the burn, chafing the inflamed skin.
The lady who sits behind the cash register in the foyer looks up with a smile. “The stalls with the second-hand items are on the left, and the home-baked and crafts goods are on the right.”
I push the key over the counter. “I’d like to donate a Ferrari. It’s parked in the lot. The papers are in the glove compartment.” Picking up the pen that lies on the book in which she scribbles down the sales, I write down my name and telephone number. “Here are my details. Just call me when I need to come down and sign whatever documents are necessary.”
She stares at me as if I’m an alien, still gaping when I turn and walk out.
Outside, Colin leans on the car with crossed arms.
“Come on,” I say, getting my bag from the trunk. “We’ll have to catch a ride with Ryan.”
“What did you do?” Ryan asks when I shift into the back of his car.
“You did not,” Celeste says, twisting in her seat.
Colin gets in beside me, only shaking his head.
“What?” I raise my palms. “You didn’t think I’d keep it?”
“Fuck.” Ryan laughs as he turns the car around and pulls into the road. “I can’t wait to tell this story at the office.”
We’re quiet the rest of the way home. Colin jumps out with a muffled goodbye when Ryan parks in the cul-de-sac in front of our house. My best friend makes his way to their gate without looking back.
The gap between Colin and me is growing. I understand that he’s worried, but behaving in such an overbearing manner makes it difficult to be open with him. He won’t be able to handle the truth. Just as well I have no intention of anyone ever finding out what really happened at my party.
Celeste blows me a kiss when I get out. I’m not surprised that she’s not coming inside. My mom isn’t crazy about Celeste. She’s never approved of Ryan’s choice of a wife. Needless to say, Celeste isn’t overly fond of my parents either.
“Give Brad a hug from me,” I say, shutting the door.
Ryan is already getting my bag. He stands quietly, observing me with a too perceptive gaze as I come around the car. We face each other for a couple of beats before he hands me the bag.
“Mom and Dad know. I called them from the car.” The corner of his mouth lifts. “Expect some drama.”
I arrange the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “Thanks for the warning.”
He gives me a piercing look. “I had to warn Dad.”
Kicking at a tuft of grass, I avert my eyes. “I know.”
“Good luck, Bella.” He squeezes my shoulder. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”
He’s halfway around the car before I say, “Ryan?”
He stops.
“How did Angelo know where to find me?”
The habitual mask drops back in place. “It can’t be too hard to get your hands on information like that.” He continues with a stoic expression, “Do you feel unsafe?”
“No,” I say quickly, not wanting him to dig deeper and pose questions I can’t answer.
He offers a semblance of a smile and opens his door.
“Thanks again for the party,” I say.
He nods and gets behind the wheel.
When he drives off, I glance around me. Roch is out there, somewhere, always watching. A shiver races down my spine. It’s most probably him who told Angelo about the party.
Finally alone, my composure slips. I lied to Ryan. I do feel unsafe, but not in the way he suggested. I feel mostly unsafe from myself, from how I feel when Anglo presses his lips on mine and says despicable things in my ear. I can’t trust myself when he strips me naked under the bright lights of a hotel bathroom and studies my body with unabashed fascination.
I’m the first woman he saw naked, but that unexpected tidbit of information isn’t what hit me the hardest or what made me the weakest. It was how he looked at me—as if I’m the last woman he’ll ever see naked. Then he branded me, reminding me all too vividly why I should hate him. Why I do hate him.
Shit. I’m a traitor, and I betrayed my family in the worst way. Angelo was right about one thing. I can’t blame my moment of weakness on the alcohol. I did what I did, and now I have to live with it.