The Wrong Kind of Love Read Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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He doesn’t answer, and a few seconds later I hear his heavy footfalls.

When I’ve managed to pull myself together, I get in the shower, then dress. The house is eerily silent without the ruckus of a football game coming from Caleb’s room. I used to hate having to sit in there with him. Now I’d give anything to listen to him shouting at the screen.

My feet carry me down the hall without conscious thought, and I pause on the threshold of Caleb’s room. The door opens with a squeal of hinges, and the lingering scent of his body spray washes over me.

His bed sits unmade, his game console controller tossed in his chair. As though he’s about to walk back in here any second, smile and tell me it was all a horrible dream or a cruel joke.

I take a seat on his bed and glance around. His nightstand drawer is slightly open, and I catch the silver glint of the gun from inside. Taking it out, I hold the weapon in my lap, wondering why he didn’t take it with him and kill Tom. Because he went there as a sacrifice. I wonder how he even found me, how he knew I would be there. But I have no doubt Tom lured him in, determined to eradicate every bit of Jude’s family.

I clutch the gun tighter, just as he once would have, then slide it in the back of my jean shorts. It brings me a little bit of comfort, as though Caleb is protecting me.

I expected to feel close to him here, but it just feels like a morbid shrine to the living. Caleb is no longer among the living, so I push to my feet and head to the door.

I make my way downstairs and into the kitchen, expecting to find Marney at the table with his coffee, but he’s not there. The silence is deafening, and without Caleb, I realize that the little bit of joy that once existed in this house is gone.

And in the absence of that joy, the waking nightmares take root in my head so easily.

I need out of this house.

Fear has me pausing at the front door. What if Tom is out there? What if he finds me? The weight of Caleb’s gun at my back reassures me enough to risk the outside over the madness of being in here alone.

I round the back of the house, heading toward that clearing in the woods. Sunshine breaks through the canopy above and dapples my face. While I love the warmth, I almost resent it for daring to shine so happily while I feel so broken. While Caleb can no longer feel it.

The four headstones sit in the shade of several large pines, sheltered from the outside world. Here, there’s nothing but the sweet sound of bird call and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. It’s peaceful.

I take a seat on the pine straw covered ground, right in front of Caleb’s stone. I still can’t quite fathom the fact that the marble marker is all that’s left of him. It’s a poor representation for someone who once shone so bright.

I trace my fingertips over his name. "Hey, Caleb," I whisper. Maybe it's stupid, but I feel close to him here, as though his spirit still lingers nearby. "I miss you." I lay down and stare up at the sunshine playing through the canopy overhead. . "So much."

It’s not long enough that the late afternoon sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting the woods in ominous shadows.

"It should have been me,” I say.

Tom stripped me and left me with nothing, he broke me in ways no human being should ever have to be broken, and then he took Caleb from me. I would endure it all again, every single depraved act, if it would bring Caleb back.

If I could go back and make him kill me instead, I would. I wanted to die. Now though, I know it wouldn’t have just been my life, and a sliver of guilt rises at the thought. I move my hand to my flat stomach and try to picture my life with a baby.

There was a time when I wanted to be a doctor, to get married and have kids. Now though... "I can't be a mother," I whisper. “I can't be anything right now,” I tell myself, or Caleb. I don't know.

I know I should tell Jude I’m pregnant, that I should talk to him about the dark thoughts in my head, but he’s grieving. And I don’t want him to know how thoroughly Tom wrecked me because I know that is exactly what Tom wants. He killed Caleb and left me alive. Why? To hurt Jude. And I refuse to be another of his weapons.



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