Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 174544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 873(@200wpm)___ 698(@250wpm)___ 582(@300wpm)
“What do you think I’d be like?” His face contorts. “That I’d be excited you were in a violent household? That I’d be glad for you.” He starts clapping.
I tilt my head and watch, smiling. “Appreciate the applause. You can send me a fruit basket next.”
“I’ll do that,” he says dryly. “Right to 2149 You’re Not Funny Lane.”
“Sending the basket to yourself?” I nearly laugh.
His eyes are knives. “Oh that’s right. Your address is 460 You’re Never Dating My Daughter Avenue.”
Straight to my soul.
Still, I lower back to my seat. “Been trying to move off that street.”
“I’m sure you want to.” He sinks back into his chair. He could’ve said, I’ll make sure you never do. I pocket that positive end note. Keep ‘em coming.
We’re skimming one another up and down, and I just go ahead and say it, “The more you’re getting to know me, I know I’m not someone you’d want for her.” I’ve always known that.
I’m not parents’ first choices. Detailing my rocky childhood was never going to help my case, even if he could empathize.
“No, you’re not,” he agrees. “What you came from is…” His nose flares. “It’s not anything I’d ever want her to experience.”
“She won’t,” I assure with everything inside me. We want the exact same things for Luna.
He nods tensely, his gaze tightening. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“So sorry you keep sending the fruit basket to the wrong place.”
He rolls his eyes, but we’re both starting to smile. His fades first. He clenches his jaw and picks up his burrito. “What you saw between your mom and dad—I hope you know that’s not love.”
“I do know,” I tell him. “I’ve wanted nothing like what my parents have with each other.” I mop up spilt rice out of my burrito with a napkin. “She was happier on drugs. When we couldn’t afford ‘em, it was like looking in the eyes of a loveless animal.”
He grimaces. “That bad, huh?”
“I think she would’ve sold every organ in my body for another hit.” I drag my gaze across the ceiling again. “There were days I wished they could’ve been high. They were easier to deal with. The desperation, the rage—that wasn’t something I tried to stick around for.”
He swallows another bite. “Where’d you go?”
“I’d run around South Philly. Go to the library, into Wawa, check out any store I could until it was dark. Then I just snuck back home.” I rest my forearms on the desk and hold my water bottle. “I didn’t like pulling long shifts at the Acme. Money was alright, but it always created more problems. Cousins would show up. I got fired and rehired about five times in one year alone.”
“I get why you didn’t want to go back and see Sean.”
I nod once, muscles stiff. “He is a bit different, though. My dad. Being out of prison and supposedly not using. He’s just…” Calm? Nice? Caring? I shake my head, not sure if there is a perfect word.
Lo narrows his eyes, concern in them. “He’s the enemy, Paul.”
“Nah, I just thought he was the Hamburgler. Been planning on getting him to steal a Quarter Pounder for you.”
He pops a tortilla chip in his mouth. “And suddenly, I’m vegetarian.”
“More for me,” I say lightly and lean back.
He dunks another chip in salsa. “I also hate Van Halen.” He stares at the old, ripped Van Halen tee I’m wearing like it’s radioactive. He’s throwing darts at my favorites when I thought he’d mention how I need a new wardrobe. Gotta get a new fit to impress his daughter and all.
“That’s alright, Xander’s dad. Not everyone has good taste.”
He reaches for his water on the desk. “That’s exactly what I was thinking about you.” He flashes a dry smile.
“Like minds.” I give him a rock on gesture.
“Yeah, no—” He’s cut off by his phone’s loud Skrillex ringtone. He answers fast. “Hey, Lil.”
“Lo, we have a problem.” The office is so quiet that her side is audible without speakerphone.
“Mom!” Luna yells in pure fear.
Adrenaline shoots in my veins.
Lo fists the phone. “Lily!” he shouts, panic crashing him forward in the chair. I’m on my feet and unclipping my radio. The cord is wrapped around the device, unplugged. Turned off. I’m not in contact with the security team.
Where the fuck is their security? Where’s Frog? Monroe?
“Luna?” I call out, and once Lo puts the phone on speaker, I hear her heavy breaths.
“We’reokaywe’reokay,” Lily slurs, panting for breath too.
Lo has a tense hand on his forehead.
“Mom is awesome,” Luna says in a steadier voice. Is she alright?
I plug in the mic cord. Are they on the road?
“Where are you two?” Lo asks with urgency while I fit in my earpiece. “Shouldn’t you be at the putt-putt place already?”
“Paparazzi are chasing us,” Luna says.
Fuck. “Where’s security?” I ask her.