Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“You really are here,” I whispered, tipping up her chin so I could get a better look at the freckles on her nose.
“I’m really here,” she said as if she really couldn’t believe it herself.
“You’re really here,” I said again, interrupting her and giving her shoulders another squeeze.
“Satisfied?” she asked, her eyes locking onto mine. The air around us grew thick and charged. Suddenly, touching her shoulders wasn’t enough.
When it came to Dre it would NEVER be enough.
“Fuck no. Not even close,” I admitted, resting my forehead against hers. “What time is it?” I asked.
“It’s time. Everyone’s starting to show up at the house, even Kevin’s coming,” she said, pulling me by the hand. I still wasn’t sure if the kid was my brother but he was enough of a delinquent to definitely give me reason to believe it was a possibility. “I have to go pick up my dad from the airport, but I’ll be back. You sure you want to do this? Meeting the parents is kind of a big deal you know,” she said, biting on her bright red lip.
“It is. And I’m totally sorry I can’t introduce you to my parents but I don’t know who my real dad is, King killed my stepdad, and my mother is a super cunt.”
“Duly noted.”
I nodded and she smiled brightly. I held onto her hand and let her lead me through the same cemetery I’d chased her through years ago. I didn’t know where we were going, just that she had something to show me, but I decided that Dre could be dragging me through the gates back to hell and I wouldn’t of cared.
I’d follow my wife anywhere.
“Oh, I almost forgot, you’ll need this,: she said tossing me something soft. I knew what it was before I opened my hand. “I think it’s time,” Dre said.
I unfolded my palm and ran my thumb over the pink and yellow plaid of the bow tie in my hand. I smiled.
It was definitely fucking time.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DRE
My father twisted around in the passenger seat and with his mouth slightly agape he ran a palm over the the supple black leather in one slow appreciative motion of admiration like he was inspecting a stud horse. “You sure I can’t keep it? I mean, it’s not like he’d ever let you drive it. You’re a terrible driver. Remember when you ran over Mrs. Stephens cat?” My dad teased with a wink.
“Excuse me?” I asked, raising my voice several octaves in mock offense. “If you remember I’d JUST gotten my driver’s license that week! And not for nothing but I’ll have you know that cat was suicidal.”
“A suicidal cat?” my father asked, cocking an eyebrow.
“What else would you call it?” I lightly smacked the wheel. “That cat was mean as hell. And not to mention a hundred years old. And what black cat darts out across an unlit road in the middle of the night?”
“A suicidal one,” my father deadpanned, but his straight face only lasted for a beat before his smile reappeared and he began to laugh, low and loud. It was a sound I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed until right then.
It had been way too long.
“So OLD MAN, unless you want me to drive your side of the car into the causeway rails I suggest you be nice to your daughter about her driving skills,” I teased back. “And NO you can’t keep it,” I said, patting the dashboard. “You did a great job on her, Dad. He’ll love it and I promise that she’ll be in good hands.”
My father’s laughter finally subsided. “I sure hope so, darling.”
“He’ll love her,” I assured him again, but when I glanced over to him I realized that it wasn’t just the car he was talking about.
“Not as much as I do,” my dad said, his eyes welling up with tears.
“No,” I said, feeling my chest tighten and my throat start to close. “No,” I repeated, pointing accusingly at him while trying to focus my attention out of the front windshield so I wouldn’t miss our turn. “You are not allowed to make me cry. This is a happy trip.” After finding the road and making the turn I risked glancing back at my father. “We’ve cried enough tears haven’t we?” I asked, sniffling back my own tears.
My father cleared his throat. “That we have. That we have.” I turned into the driveway but instead of parking in front of the garage next to the other cars I’d prearranged with Mr. Ronson a few houses down from the house to use his driveway so Preppy wouldn’t see his surprise before it was time. My stomach flipped wondering what his response would be.
“He’s not like other guys,” I explained to my dad for the seventh time since we’ve been in the car together. Earlier Ray and I picked him up at the airport in King’s truck before she dropped both of us off at the auto-transport center to receive the car and make sure it survived the journey. I had held my breath through the entire inspection, but luckily, she was good to go.