Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I pressed my forefinger and thumb against my temples and rubbed. He wasn’t thinking this all through.
“What about me? Did you think of that? I ran off too. Sebastian called me several times yesterday, and I ignored it. What if this is a way to draw me out?”
“It ain’t. They said that Sebastian was done with you. He got what he needed. You left and saved them the trouble of having to get rid of you. The man even told me to tell you, uh, somethin’ about, That’s the best you can be, little girl—a beautiful little fool. Or was it, That’s the best thing a girl can … or … fuck, I can’t remember. He said to pass that along, and I did. Whatever. Just get home.”
“That’s the best thing a girl can be in this world—a beautiful little fool,” I whispered, remembering the line from The Great Gatsby.
And I’d thought Sebastian couldn’t hurt me anymore. He was right. I was a fool.
“Yeah! That sounds about right,” he agreed.
I ended the call as Grams walked by, talking about her lemon Bundt cake she’d made for the neighbors. A numbness slowly seeped through me. Nothing seemed important as if I could just sit here and stare at the wall. Let the world pass me by. Forget everything and just exist. Perhaps this was self-preservation, or my soul was backing out. Deciding it’d had all it could take.
• Thirty-Five •
I’d been fooled by the world’s prettiest blue eyes and most magical cunt in the goddamn world
Sebastian
The door to my set of rooms swung open, and Thatcher strolled inside. His gaze dropped to the bottle of whiskey in my hand, then back to me before he tossed something at me.
A new iPhone dropped in my lap. I didn’t reach to pick it up. Instead, I took another drink from the bottle.
Over the past three weeks, I’d found if I drank steadily all day, then I could stay in that balance of not giving a shit. So far, so good.
“Don’t smash that one,” Thatcher told me. “That’s the third phone in three weeks, and I’m done with replacing it.”
I shrugged. “Then, stop doing it.” Seemed like a reasonable suggestion.
“You need a goddamn phone. Just because you’re working on a visit to rehab soon doesn’t mean you aren’t required to be on call at all times.”
I laughed. Yeah, I would be real good at a job. Just point, and I’d shoot.
“How much longer is this shit gonna last?” he asked me.
I tilted my head and pretended to consider this. “I dunno. Perhaps if I keep it up, I’ll need shock therapy, and it will fry my brain. Tell me, does that take away memories?”
He gave me an annoyed glance, then headed back for the door. “Sober up. Breeders’ Cup is in two days, and with me there, you need to be in your right head here.”
“Ah, yes. The Breeders’ Cup. How could I forget? I’m surprised you aren’t there with Capri now. Didn’t she already leave?”
“I had planned to leave with her, but I’ve got you trying to kill your liver,” he replied. “Get sober, or I’ll hold your ass in a cold shower and pour coffee down your fucking throat until you are.”
I glared at the door after he was gone. Sobering up meant feeling. I didn’t want to do that. Every time I tried, it was too much. I couldn’t deal with it.
She’d been at Merce’s. The tracker on her phone had put her at Merce’s. And she hated me. The traitorous little hustler hated me. She’d made me think she felt something. I had believed it. All of it.
Hell, I had given her three days after leaving Merce’s and returning home to come find me. Call me. Fuck! Do something. Show me that she gave a fucking shit. But she never called.
I’d been fooled by the world’s prettiest blue eyes and most magical cunt in the goddamn world. Her birthday had come and gone. I’d had such big plans for that day. So much I wanted to experience with her. Places to take her. But she didn’t want me.
Picking up my phone, I started to slam it against the fireplace and stopped. Not again. It was time I got a grip. Standing up, I stared at the bottle in my other hand, and then I smashed it, letting what was left of the liquor to spray the floor around me.
Stepping over the broken glass, I headed back to my en suite to take a shower.
• Thirty-Six •
“You aren’t the first girl to reject him. But you’re the first one to wreck him.”
Royal
Picking up the last of the dishes, I headed back to the kitchen at the all-night diner I was now working at. I couldn’t trust Dad to stay home with Grams, so I waited until she went to bed at night before coming in to work until thirty minutes before she woke up. There weren’t as many customers as there were during the day, but we did get truckers, and they were normally good about tipping. Tonight, I’d had three, and I there was almost a hundred dollars tucked away in my pocket.