Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
"Oil has a way of getting away from you," Hayes says as if he understands. "Dangerous stuff."
"Yes, sir," she whispers, and I hate the way the words sound on her tongue, especially directed at another man.
I take a step forward. "Maybe it's time for you to go."
Riley's eyes search my face, and I know Hayes is standing there watching this interaction.
"I'll come back later for my things," she whispers, and I can see that she's on the verge of more tears.
"I'll drop them at your house. I'd prefer it if you never came back to my house. You've done enough damage."
My words are hateful, hurtful, and they're intentional. I'd rather the woman hate me and get mad every time a thought of me enters her head rather than have tears staining her cheeks.
She swallows as her eyes narrow, and I know that I've done what I set out to do.
"Have a good evening, Hayes," she says in a sickly sweet tone before looking at me with a sneer. "Have the night you deserve, asshole."
"I get the feeling that you both got a little distracted tonight," Hayes says with humor in his voice once she's gone. "Was it worth it?"
I turn my attention back to the man but find it difficult to look him in the eyes when I lie.
"Not even close."
Chapter 11
Riley
I let myself stew in my anger all night and all day, but when it came time for dinner, I knew I couldn't leave the man without anything to eat.
Instead of making my normal-sized meal, I made enough for two. After eating, I left a plate for him on his porch when there was no answer after ringing the bell.
I did the same again today. Only when I step up on the porch, I see the plate of food I left yesterday untouched. Anger swims inside of me.
I know I played a part in what happened the other night. I'm the one who turned up the fire under the grease to an unsafe level, but I had every intention of being there and turning it back down once it reached the temperature I needed for the spring rolls.
Mac was the one who interrupted all of that. I've never started a fire in a kitchen before because I've never been literally swept off my feet and fucked stupid while cooking.
He blames me. He made it very clear, but I figured in his anger at the immediate situation, he said things he didn't mean. It's why this food was sort of a peace offering. I didn't actually think he never wanted me to show up, but I know he strategically left my things on my front porch while I wasn't there. My house doesn't have a garage, so he had to have waited for a time when my car wasn't in the driveway to bring my things back.
I found them on my porch in the fifteen minutes I was gone running an errand. The grumpy bastard doesn't even have the balls to face me, and that irritates me more than anything.
I could tell by the look in Hayes Campbell's eyes the other night that he suspected correctly why I would've gotten distracted. It wasn't until I got home and thought about it that the old self-conscious shit settled in. I let myself imagine that Mac treated me the way he did in front of Hayes because he was embarrassed about what happened between us. Like I was something he only indulged in behind closed doors where no one else would be privileged to the information. He was ashamed of me, and that hit me a little harder than it should've for a woman who has worked really hard on her confidence level.
Instead of picking up the food and walking away with both plates, I replace the cold plate of food with a fresh one. I'm trying to be the bigger person, and this is more about me and fighting that pettiness that always seems to leak out where Mac is concerned. If he doesn't want to eat the food, then that's on him. It won't be because I didn't offer the man something to eat because his kitchen is currently unusable.
I decide that if I come back tomorrow and the food has been untouched, I'll stop leaving it. I can't force him to eat any more than he could apologize for how he acted and make me feel better about myself.
I don't know how much the McGees saw, but I did hear Mr. McGee mention my last name, so he had to have known I was in the house. What I haven't heard is my name in relation to the fire, although I have heard whispers of people feeling bad for Mac and what happened at his home. I guess I should be grateful that he hasn't told people that he blames me for it. Hayes seems to have kept his mouth shut about me being there as well.