Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
My words the other night skate across my mind.
Guilt is another thing I don’t feel often, but I recall saying something to her like that, like if I touched her, I’d let my dad know what a filthy little slut she was.
“If more happened than you want to admit to me, don’t think my dad would judge you for it. He’s not a dick. He would know it’s not your fault. He wouldn’t look at you any differently.”
“That’s not what you said the other night.”
Bingo.
“I was being an asshole the other night,” I state. “I am an asshole at times, and you probably think I’m no fucking better than the pig that had his hands on you tonight, but regardless of what I said, you know my dad. He’s not a piece of shit. He’d never punish you for something that wasn’t your fault.”
She looks down at her hands. Shifts her legs and pulls at the tattered dress again. Finally, she shakes her head. “I should have just stayed at the hotel.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell her.
I have no idea what she and my dad did tonight, or why she left. I don’t know how she even ended up in the situation she was in because my dad hadn’t been home yet. I figured they were together.
I do know there’s no point in her blaming herself when she’s not the one who did something wrong.
I don’t know if she believes me or not because she stops talking and starts looking out the window again.
Before long, we’re back at my house.
Kennedy buttons her sweater and grabs her bags. I grab my phone and the gun and make sure the car is locked up even though it’s in the garage.
Since we come in through the garage, she’s not sure where to go when we first get inside. She hangs back and looks to me for direction. I point, but still move around her so I can take the lead.
Jet’s in the kitchen when we get there. His gaze jumps to her, his concern clear. His worry seems to grow when he takes in the state of her.
Obviously, I wasn’t thinking about it when we left her place, but her legs and thighs are pretty much completely bare and the sweater only reaches her hips. The tattered fabric covers her pussy, but the one side is torn clear up her side and she’s not wearing panties so you can see a lot of skin.
Probably more skin than Jet’s ever seen on a live woman, frankly. This is probably pretty confusing for him.
He clears his throat and shifts, awkwardly hopping off the island stool and drifting close, unsure what to say and trying to keep his eyes from wandering.
Kennedy keeps her head down.
I hear footsteps on the stairs, and a few seconds later, my dad comes around the corner. His gaze shoots to Kennedy, and she walks straight into his arms.
He doesn’t try to hide his affection for her at all as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into the protective shelter of his chest. He kisses the top of her head and pets her wild curls, murmuring reassurances and holding her tightly against him.
Jet glances over at me.
He can probably tell I’m not surprised, but I can tell he is.
Not very socially perceptive for such a little fucking genius, that Jet.
Kennedy holds Dad tight and sniffles a little, but she keeps her face buried in his chest. After a little while, he pulls her back and leans down to ask if she wants to go upstairs and take a hot shower.
She nods, and he wraps an arm around her, leading her out of the room. Before he disappears around the corner, he looks back at me. “Don’t go far. When I get her in the shower, I’ll be back down. I want to talk to you.”
I nod, walking to the fridge to grab myself a beer. After the night I’ve had, I need one.
Dad’s up there with her for a while. When he comes back down, Jet has gone upstairs to work out his awkward feelings about Kennedy, and I’m sitting at the island about halfway finished with my beer.
My gaze flickers to him as he walks over and sits down next to me. He hangs his head and sighs.
“How’s she doing?” I ask.
“She swears she’s okay. I took some pictures of her before she got in the shower, just in case. She insists she didn’t need to go to the hospital to be checked out.”
I nod. “She was fighting him when I came in, but he was a big fucker, and she’s a little thing.”
Dad’s fists flex on the countertop. “You shouldn’t have gone over there yourself. That was stupid and dangerous.”
“I know.”
Despite his previous statement, he adds, “I’m proud of you.”