Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69993 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I reach for her, and she takes a step back.
“Look, Gia, I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll be here whenever you need me, I swear.” I take her wrist in my hand and rub my thumb back and forth over the soft skin covering her pulse.
Gia yanks her wrist from my grasp and steps back, shaking her head.
“I wish I could believe you, but I don’t. You seem like a great guy, Preach, but you should’ve fucked me last night when you had the chance. Have a good life.”
This time when she leaves, I give her space but only enough to go back and get my bike.
I follow Gia for a few blocks before I slow down and edge up toward her. “Gia, get on the bike.”
“Nope.” She keeps walking, occasionally glancing over her shoulder as if she’s genuinely worried I might do something to her.
“Gia,” I growl. I stop and get off my bike, following her until I pass her and get in her face. “Get. On. The. Damn. Bike.”
She flashes a sweet smile. “No, thank you.”
“Gia, you’re not safe out here alone. Get on the bike and let me take you home.”
Her shoulders sink but only for a moment before she straightens her back and walks around me. “I’ll take care of myself, Preacher. Or…maybe I won’t.”
I don’t like her defeatist attitude one bit, and I won’t let her out of my sight to forge headlong into danger. “Dammit, Gia, you’re not safe. The hackers know your name. They might even know where you are. Let me get you someplace safe, and then I’ll leave you be, all right?”
“Don’t worry. I can get back home.” She tosses a wave over her shoulder and picks up her speed.
“Home? If you go home and they come looking for you while Kathy is there, what do you think will happen to her? Are you so pissed at her that she’s acceptable collateral damage?”
“Fuck you, Preacher. It’s not like you or your asshole brothers give a shit what happens to me anyway.”
“Dammit, Gia, you know that’s not true!” I get in her face again and fold my arms as a barrier between us. “Be pissed off all you want, but get on the damn bike, or I’ll put you on it myself.”
She hesitates for a long moment before she throws her hands up and shakes her head. “What the fuck ever.”
The ride back to my place feels never-ending, and when we get there, Gia is as quiet as I’ve ever seen her. She looks around my place with very little interest. Instead, she just stares out the front window.
Silent and sullen.
“You hungry?”
“No.”
Instead of cajoling or trying to force the issue, I head to the kitchen and pull out all the ingredients necessary for a simple meal of ham and cheese sandwiches, only not so simple but with the works. I put the sandwiches on plates with dill chips and pickles on the side. And half a bottle of red wine. “Gia, come eat.”
“I said I’m not hungry,” she growls as she joins me in the kitchen. “But I will have a glass of that.” She plucks the glass off the table and takes two big sips before smacking her lips in satisfaction. “You’re drinking wine.”
“I am,” I confirm by lifting the glass and touching the rim to hers.
“Why? I’ve never seen you drink. Figured you were some teetotaler type.”
I laugh at her words, long and hard. “A teetotaler? Who even uses that word anymore?”
“Me,” she answers, her voice full of defiance. “So, what gives?”
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I really don’t want to get into this with her, but maybe it’s best if she knows. “It’s just something that happened a long time ago. I used to drink a lot, and then one day, I realized it was a problem. So, I cut back.”
Gia is silent for a moment, and I can see the wheels turning in her head. “Did something happen?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. It’s still hard to talk about, even after all these years.
“It’s okay,” she says softly, reaching out to touch my hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
I give her a grateful look, but I know I need to tell her. She deserves to know, especially since she’s been so open with me. “My brother died,” I say finally, the words coming out in a rush. “He committed suicide and I found him. I was so angry at him, and at myself. I blamed myself for not being there for him, for not helping him. And I started drinking to forget. But it only made things worse.”
Gia takes my hand in hers and squeezes it tight. “I’m so sorry, Preacher. I had no idea.”
I shake my head. “Not a lot of people know. I don’t like talking about it.”