Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
“I know,” she says in a broken whisper. “It’s a disaster. It gets even worse, Brody, and I don’t even know if I should tell you this…”
“What?” I immediately demand, my blue eyes like icy fire.
The young woman inhales deeply before letting out a shuddering breath.
“During class, I was passed a note. I don’t who drew it, or who sent it because it was one of those daisy-chain things. But when I opened the folded piece of paper, there was a crude caricature of a girl sitting on Santa’s lap while moaning things like, “Give Me Cock” and “Fuck Me Hard.””
“What?” I rage, unable to keep the outburst inside any longer. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She shakes her head again, cowering a little now.
“No,” Cleo whispers. “It’s true, I swear. I threw away the note immediately, but it really happened.”
That sets off another crying jag, and I hold her curvy form close, trying to console the girl while controlling my anger at the same time. My big body’s shaking because I’m so angry, and I’m determined to make those mean girls pay.
“We’ll figure it out,” I growl in a grim voice. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll avenge you.”
Cleo sniffles again.
“It’s my fault. I should have never opened my big mouth and blabbed about us. I wish I’d never said anything.”
I growl as I pull that curvy form closer to me, kissing her head.
“No sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry about because you did nothing wrong. But believe me when I tell you that we’re going to wreak havoc on those bitches because they damn sure aren’t going to get away with this. No one hurts my girl and gets away with it,” I reiterate in a grim voice. Then, my lips come crashing down on Cleo’s mouth, sealing my promise. After all, this woman has been injured and as her protector, I have only one purpose in life: to seek vengeance on her behalf, and to inflict as much pain and agony as possible while I’m doing it.
8
BRODY
“Take a deep breath, honey,” I soothe in a low voice, patting Cleo’s hand as I park my truck near the entrance of Lockwood Correctional Facility. “It’s fine. Your mom will be happy to see you.”
Cleo nods, her brown eyes wary.
“I hope so,” she says in a quiet voice. “It’s just this is my first time seeing my mom since she first went to lock-up, and I’m not sure what to expect. What if she’s crazy now? It does happen, you know.”
I nod.
“It does, but only occasionally,” I acknowledge. “Besides, prison does funny things to a person, so maybe Jeannie’s changed for the better.”
With that, we get out of the truck and stroll across the parking lot. I take my girl’s hand and squeeze in a show of support. After all, Cleo and I haven’t figured out a way to punish her old suitemates just yet, but we will. It’s merely a matter of when because I don’t let people walk away from a shitstorm without feeling some serious pain.
In the meantime, Jeannie’s getting out of lock-up, and we’re here to pick her up. Maybe my ex will walk the straight and narrow after her experience as a jailbird. Or maybe she’ll be exactly the same, and resume her old habits straightaway. God, I hope not, and for her daughter’s sake, I’m praying for a change.
Cleo takes one last breath before we enter the dull grey building.
“I hope this works out okay.”
I squeeze her hand again.
“It’s going to be fine, sweetheart. I’m sure Jeannie’s a changed woman.”
Cleo merely sighs, her shoulders slumping.
“Changed, as in now Jeannie’s two hundred pounds, bald, and a complete thug? Or changed as in she’s spent her time in prison attending church and now she’s extremely religious and refuses to go anywhere without a Bible, while speaking strictly in psalms?”
I laugh at her joke as we step into the prison, and the first thing that strikes me are the glaringly bright fluorescents. I literally have to shade my eyes as we approach the front desk.
“Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine, sweetheart. You’re not going to know what your mom’s been up to until she comes out, and there’s no sense in getting all worked up about it until then.” With that, we go through what feels like hours of paperwork before being sent to a waiting area with orange and red plastic chairs bolted to the ground. But then, a heavy door opens, and who but Jeannie strolls in.
I blink because actually, my ex looks good. She appears healthy and fit, with her brownish-gray hair pulled into a tight ponytail. She’s wearing street clothes that were probably what she had on when she was nabbed for the crime, but they’re clean and not wrinkled or dirty. Sure, there’s a new tattoo on her hand, but it’s fine.