Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Elliot smacks her. “Exactly. Gosh.”
Clara quickly becomes guilt-ridden and looks down at her feet. “Sorry, Lou.”
I wave her off and turn to climb the ladder. “No, I haven’t.” I feel them watching me, and they don’t need to ask for me to know what they’re wondering. I shrug. “He is nothing. He doesn’t deserve to be acknowledged. Especially to someone I care so much for.”
I’m met with silence as I fuss with the books, making sure they’re straight and trying to avoid answering my sisters’ questions. I assume the conversation is over, but then it’s Eliza who whispers, “Ciaran would want to know.”
I tense up, my heart hammering in my chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It will to him,” she says softly, and I hadn’t realized she’d moved until she grasps my ankle. I look down at her, and she gives me a tentative smile. Gone is the teasing, replaced by fear and hatred of what we’ve been through. “He seems like the kind of guy who wants to know anything and everything about you.”
I don’t acknowledge her comment or even respond, because I know she’s right.
And I hate when she’s right.
CHAPTER 36
Ciaran
My relationship with Cruz may be a bit toxic, with the back-and-forth we do, but I knew when I called him, he’d be there for me. I’ve been driving around for hours, trying to clear my head and find my balls to call Mikayla. Each time I try, I’m reminded how much I hate the sound of her voice, and I don’t go through with it. I need to. I can’t go back without doing so. It’s not fair to Louisa. It’s not fair to my mom to deal with my crazy ex, and it’s sure as hell not fair that I have to call her at all, just to put a stop to all this.
But then my mom always did say that life isn’t fair.
Cruz listens intently as I explain everything, basically word-vomiting all over him. To my surprise, he doesn’t say much or even interject with his own witty comments or an “I told you so,” but then, he knows how serious it is with Mikayla. How serious it is that I am unloading on him.
“Fuck, dude. That’s a lot.”
I nod as I sit in front of the only Chinese restaurant in town. It’s good, and I hope the girls like it. I ordered enough for Louisa and all her sisters, in case they join us. “Only you would fall for the owner’s granddaughter.”
I don’t correct him because I am falling. There is no denying it or even trying to resist. I want everything that Louisa can offer me, on a personal level. “Yeah, I know.”
“But from what you’re saying, I get the feeling she’s going to take care of it. And hell, if she can get you called up, let her.”
“No, I don’t want that. You know me. I don’t take handouts.”
“Righteous fuck,” he mutters, and I scoff. “I mean, all you can do is trust her and hope Davenport doesn’t kick you off the team and ruin your career.”
I groan, leaning my head back. “God, I’m glad I called you.”
“Right? I’m basically your Dr. Phil,” he says, and I roll my eyes. “I think it’ll be fine. Do you trust her?”
“I do,” I admit, breathing in deeply. “I kind of want to contact him myself, though.”
“Not surprised. But you might want to ask her how she feels about that.”
“True,” I agree, sighing heavily. “And what about Mikayla?”
He scoffs. “Hire a hit man?”
“My mom would do it, probably.”
“Probably, but I like her and don’t want her in jail.”
“Yeah, she’s a cool chick.”
We laugh in agreement before he says, “I think you need to stop being a crybaby bitch and call the chick who belongs in a padded room. You have too much shit going on to deal with her psycho ass.”
As much as I don’t want to agree, I know he’s right. “How would you go about it?”
I’m met with Cruz’s laughter. “Bro, I’d tell her to go fuck herself—and her momma—and to never contact you again. Short and simple.”
I exhale the breath I was holding. “I feel like if I call her, I’m going to go off and unload.”
I can practically hear him thinking. After taking a deep breath, he asks, “Would that be so bad? Maybe you need to. Maybe that’s your closure.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, considering his question. “I don’t want to talk to her. I hate her.”
“I know,” he says slowly. “But I think you may need to tell her your truth, get it off your chest, and then nothing will be holding you back.”
I like the sound of that and how it makes me feel. We hang up after I thank him, and the store owner comes to my car to give me the food. I place the bags on my passenger seat and then send a quick text to Lou. She answers when I’m turning out of the parking lot.