Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
“Women like to talk.”
“Not always true.” I smile, and he sighs.
“You’re not dealing with any of the ladies of The Manor now. You’re thinking about a normal life with a normal woman? Then start acting normal, motherfucker.”
I sink into my seat. Normal. What the fuck is normal, anyway? “Did the CCTV get fixed?” I ask, diverting the conversation to other places. He nods, thoughtful, starting with the drumming of his fingers again, obviously done with talking. So I shut up and try my fucking hardest not to think. Impossible. It’s Friday. Lusso launch day. I should stay away. Give her space. Let me play on her mind. Perhaps she’ll reach out to me.
I wedge my elbow on the door and rest my thumping head in my hand. Stubborn. There’s no way I can stay away from my new apartment knowing she’s in there. I’m going. End of.
And normal? Ava isn’t normal. Normal for me is what I’m used to, and Ava isn’t what I’m used to. Or what I deserve.
* * *
“You will marry Lauren,” Dad says, pacing the kitchen as Mum, ever still and quiet these days since Jake died, hollow and lost, says nothing. “Of all the stupid things you’ve done, Jesse. All the stupid things!” His fury is palpable, his face red with it. “Are you trying to ruin us?” His hands slam on the table with force, making Mum jump, and he leans across, his lip on the verge of a snarl. I take no pleasure from the stress and hurt I have caused. Just like I stopped fighting to win their approval when Jake was alive, I’ve stopped fighting to win forgiveness. I have nothing left in me, so rather than fight, I will surrender. I’ll do what I should do and hope it redeems me in some way. Hope it alleviates this unbearable pressure on my shoulders. Hope it brings peace. For all of us.
“I will be a good husband, Dad. A good father.” I won’t throw my weight around. Apply unnecessary pressure upon my kids. Make them feel useless.
He snorts. “I won’t hold my breath.”
* * *
“Hey.” John’s distant voice brings me back into the car, and I turn my eyes onto him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, blinking away my memories. “I’m fine.”
* * *
As we rumble down the driveway toward The Manor, I feel myself tensing, and my tight muscles only get tighter when I see Coral’s car. I hope and pray she had too much to drink last night to drive and called a cab, but the turn of my gut tells me otherwise.
“She stayed the night,” John says before I can ask, coming to a stop and turning off the engine. “Drew and Sam calmed Mike down. She had nowhere to go.” He gets out and walks away, his ominous frame telling me in every way not to question him.
“What are we, a fucking hotel now?” It comes out before my brain engages, and John stops, slowly turning back to me, his persona deadly.
“Maybe if the Lord of The Manor stopped allowing sleepovers in his fucking bed, we wouldn’t have this fucking problem.”
I can’t hold back my curled lip. “Fuck you,” I spit, stalking past him, waiting for a dig to my ribs.
“I’ll let that slide, since you’re obviously not yourself these days.”
Myself? Who the fuck am I, anyway? I keep my attention forward and immediately wish I hadn’t. Coral falls out of the bar, literally, and makes a beeline for me, throwing herself into my arms. I have no choice but to catch her or leave her falling face-first to the floor. “You’re here,” she slurs, and I look down at the back of her head incredulously where it’s buried in my chest, her body limp and heavy. “I missed you.”
I inch round with Coral hanging off my front to find John, my face undoubtedly expressing my disbelief. It’s morning and she’s plastered. John just shrugs and walks off. He’s not seriously leaving me to handle this? “Wanker,” I mutter, virtually dragging her back into the bar. “You need to go home, Coral.” I negotiate her useless form onto one of the chairs, resting my hand on her shoulder to stop her from tumbling off as I pull out my phone.
“Mike wouldn’t let me.” She drops her head back, looking up at me. “And I wanted to see you.”
“You’re drunk.” Have I ever stated something so obvious?
“I’m not drunk.” She reaches up and clumsily tucks her hair behind her ears, straightening her slumped body. It’s a feeble attempt to convince me she’s sober. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman so rat-arsed. It’s ugly. “Where have you been?” She tries to focus on me, blinking. “You’re never here anymore. Why?”
I laugh under my breath and dial Sarah, mentally praying she doesn’t let me down. It goes to voicemail, and I curse as I dial again. Nothing. “For fuck’s sake.” I lean as far as I can, trying to see outside the bar when I hear footsteps. I spot Drew coming down the stairs fastening his tie, and I frown. Fuck me, in my absence this place really has turned into a hotel. “Oi,” I call, and he looks up. His face twists. “Some help?”