Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“One,” Max says, getting up, “no one thinks you’re powerful except for Karrie.” He holds up a finger. “And two, if she told him, he would have already been paid a visit.”
“Is he in the mob?” I ask, my hands going into my hair.
“You wish,” Evan says. “This guy trained with the Navy SEALs for fun.” He laughs and I look over at my father, I’m sure the blood has now drained from my face.
“Everyone needs to just relax,” my father says, getting up. “Max, please take him out of here before his head explodes.” He points at Matthew, who just shakes his head.
“I’m going to ask around,” Matthew comments, “put out some feelers.” He looks at us, and Evan just laughs at him getting up.
“Oh, Tony Soprano, time to get you home and in a robe.” Evan slaps him on the back before looking at me. “You better make this right.” All I can do is nod at them because I know if I don’t, I’m going to have these four kick my ass along with her family.
sofia
The wind blows my hair as I make my way down the single road that leads to my parents’ house. The sun is shining so bright in the sky that it’s like a welcome home hug. I put my hand out the window, moving it through the wind, just like I used to do when I was a teenager. The crunching of rocks under my wheels fills the silent car.
I don’t even have it in park before my father comes out of the house. I can’t help but smile as he stands there in jeans and a flannel button-down shirt, and his dirty-ass cowboy boots that I think he’s had since I was five on his feet. Our eyes meet, and he smiles so big his eyes light up. “My baby girl is home!” he shouts, coming down the five steps toward me. I have enough time to turn off the car before he opens the driver’s door.
“Hi, Dad.” I smile at him as I unbuckle my seat belt. He doesn’t even give me a chance to get my bearings before he literally pulls me out of the car and gives me the biggest hug I’ve gotten. Well, since the last time, when he said he hadn’t seen me in a year but was actually only a month.
“She’s home.” He lifts me off my feet, his arms still wrapped around my waist. “Hazel,” he yells for my mother, “she’s home!”
“Dad, you are acting like I’m returning from war,” I tell him as he puts me down and holds my face in his hands.
“You look tired,” he says, and I sigh at the same time that my mother opens the door and slams it shut.
“You did not just tell her that,” my mother scolds, putting her hands on her hips. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Her T-shirt looks like she has jam on it, and I can only imagine that she’s been baking since this morning when I called and let them know I was on my way. I knew two days ago I was coming, but I didn’t want to let them know because I knew they would make a big deal out of it. Hence, my mother baking. When we moved back to town when I was five, my aunt Savannah offered my mother half of her coffee shop if she would do the baking. Needless to say, it worked out so well that my mother now has an industrial kitchen and has all her baked goodies shipped out around the United States, Hazel’s Sweets.
“What? She looks tired,” my father states again, dropping my face. “They are working her too hard.”
“Oh, would you hush?” my mother says, pushing him aside. “No one likes to be told they look tired. Why don’t you just tell her she looks like shit.”
My father gasps. “How can she ever look like shit? She looks exactly like you.” He smiles at her, thinking he’s complimenting her but missing the mark.
“Reed,” my mother warns, “I would stop talking if I were you.” She takes me in her arms and kisses my cheek. “You feel skinny,” my mother says, and I close my eyes.
“That’s what I thought also. I’m going to call Grandma Charlotte and tell her.” He takes his phone out of his pocket and walks away from us.
“See, now he forgot about how tired you are,” my mother says, and I laugh at her. “This is a nice surprise,” she says. I just smile because I’m afraid if I say something, anything, I’ll burst out in tears.
She looks into my eyes, and I know she can tell I’m not okay. But the sound of a truck approaching makes me look down and get myself under control. I blink away the tears that have threatened to come out being in my mother’s arms. “Well, well, well,” I hear my grandfather Casey say as he steps out of his truck. “My first grandchild has returned.”