Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
The room goes silent as he lets his words sink in, giving me his best brokenhearted face. As if in tune with my distress, my phone starts to ring—Jax calling through. My heart rate speeds up at seeing his face on my caller ID.
As much as I would rather answer the call and flirt with Jax, I need to deal with the problem right in front of me. My past that’s come to haunt me. I always wondered how I’d feel if Toby showed back up, begging to have another go at things. For a long time, I secretly indulged in the fantasy that I’d make him grovel before accepting him back into my loving arms. Now that he’s here, the fantasy isn’t at all what I want. I don’t want him and haven’t for a long time. And once I met Jax, everything changed for me.
Toby glances at my phone when Jax calls again. I flip it over, not comfortable with him seeing my happiness. Toby no longer has that privilege. His rights to me have been revoked.
“I’m sorry you traveled all this way, but you need to leave,” I grit out, forcing my voice to sound commanding and firm. “I have work to do and this conversation ended years ago.”
He stubbornly shakes his head. “No, Dante boo. I won’t leave without a fight this time.”
“What about last time?” I snarl, my anger and hurt rearing its ugly head and making him flinch. “What was it that made you realize you suddenly didn’t love me anymore? Was it Bradley? Someone else? You don’t get to waltz back into my life and pick up where we left off before you shredded my fucking heart, Toby. We’re done. You made that abundantly clear a long time ago.”
His shoulders tremble as he cries. At one time, I wouldn’t have been immune to his emotional theatrics. Even when he left me, I felt bad for him crying about it. My heart was in tatters and I still wanted to console him through his pain. What a fucking joke.
Not now.
My heart is hardened where Toby is concerned, and soft for another.
What Toby and I had was nice. It felt real at the time. However, I never was so fully consumed by him like I was with Jax from the second I met him. Jax and I were—and still are—instant fire. But it’s more than just a good lay with Jax, he fulfils me in ways no one else can, hence probably why I can’t lie to myself and call this a weekend fling gone on too long.
I love Jaxson Bell.
Seeing Toby and being forced to compare the two makes that realization as clear as day.
My phone continues to buzz. I wish Toby would just leave so I could confess my innermost thoughts to Jax. How he makes me feel whole just by being himself. Yeah, it’s fucking annoying that he’s in the closet and afraid of being shunned by this town, but it’s something we can surely get past. He’s been doing his best taking steps forward like admitting his relationship with me to his brother and going out on dates with me this week. We’ll eventually get there. I know it.
“Do I need to call you an Uber?” I ask, not hiding my irritation of his presence.
“I rented a car—”
“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Shelly screeches, bursting into the room. The tears rolling down her cheeks cause instant panic.
I stand abruptly, my heart in my throat. “What’s wrong?”
“C-Callan. It’s Callan.” She sobs, her entire body trembling. “Jax called. He said for us to head up to the hospital.”
“Oh my God,” Toby chokes out. “Is he okay?”
My sister sweeps her stare over him, disgust transforming her sad features. “You need to leave, Toby. This is a family matter and you’re no longer part of it.”
I don’t even get onto her for her rudeness because Callan is going to the hospital.
Oh, God.
Callan is sick or hurt.
Pain I only thought was gut-wrenching when Toby left me pales in comparison to the agony I will feel if something happens to my little brother.
He’s going to be okay.
He has to be.
Jaxson
“Interrogate everyone,” I bark out at Brie as I climb into the ambulance with Callan.
The doors close behind us and it takes off as the paramedic hovers over Callan, checking his vitals. Callan’s eyes are closed, one swollen and purple already. His dark hair is matted with blood and it seeps through the bandage the EMTs put on him while in the locker room in an attempt to control the bleeding.
He was beaten.
Badly.
And, from the looks of it, with a baseball bat.
What sick sonofabitch does that to someone?
Callan moans, his one eye fluttering open for a moment. A tear leaks out as his eye. I gently take his hand in mine, squeezing it.