Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 212458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1062(@200wpm)___ 850(@250wpm)___ 708(@300wpm)
She shoots me a dirty look, then turns her eyes to him. “I came here to tell you the wedding is off,” she says softly.
She’s staring at him with what looks to me like the eyes of someone who is realizing they don’t know the person they’re staring at as well as they thought they did.
He laughs, like it’s a big joke, and then he stops laughing and rears back and his mouth drops open. “Say what?”
“You drove home drunk! I can’t believe you. You know how I feel about that. How I see the effects of that on a regular basis at work. How Blake lost his parents when he was a teenager to a drunk driver, and-”
“Not drunk, Amelia! I’m fine! Who is this guy? This isn’t Blake, is it?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I can’t believe you. We were over when I got your voicemail but now… I don’t even feel bad about it.”
“No. That’s not… hey… where’s your ring?” He moves toward her, reaching for her left hand.
I get between them. “Back up,” I demand, my voice going guttural.
He does not touch her. No fucking way.
“Get outta my way, asshole.” He tries to push me aside. He doesn’t even move me an inch.
“Mason,” Amelia says with panic in her voice just as my palm comes up and knocks him in the center of the chest.
He stumbles backward, though catches himself before he falls. That was the one and only warning he gets. I used next to zero force. It won’t be the same if he comes at my woman aggressively a second time.
“Do not get between me and my fiancée,” the guy shouts, going red-faced.
“I’m no longer your fiancée,” she says. “I’ll come back to get the rest of my stuff later.”
“Amelia, wait!” He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m not drunk. I’m fine. And I didn’t fuck anybody, despite what he says. Who the fuck is this guy with these ridic… Amelia, come on!”
“Goodbye,” she spits.
“Don’t,” he whispers, looking wounded.
“I’ll call you later and make arrangements to get my things.”
“Amelia!” he calls out. “Talktomeee. Let’s talk about thisss.”
She loops the strap of the bag over her shoulder and storms past me, past him, and out the door.
He tries following her. I block the door.
“Outta my way, fucker. Meliaaaa!”
“Do not follow her. She said goodbye.”
He glares at me. “You wanna tell me who you are?”
“He gave me a ride,” Amelia calls back. “Don’t worry about him, Rick. We’re over because of you.”
“Stay here or I’m the guy you’re gonna have a problem with,” I add.
“Psh,” he scoffs, then tries to push past me, grabbing my jacket roughly, “You got any clue what I can bench? You don’t wanna mess with me.”
I clock him in the mouth with just enough force that he feels it. He loses his balance and falls.
“Believe me, I do wanna mess with you. This is your one warning to stay here or you’re gonna give me ample reason,” I warn.
He scrambles to his feet but with Scooby Doo legs, immediately falls back down. He gets up again and barrels toward me, upper body at a near forty-five-degree angle. Guy is smashed drunk.
I step to the side as he falls to his knees. He grunts, face going red.
“Do yourself a favor and stay down, man.”
“You’re dead,” he shouts, pointing at me. “You fucking her?”
“How long have you been fuckin’ someone behind her back?” I fire back.
My horn blares. I look over my shoulder. It’s Amelia, in the truck, animatedly throwing her arms up in the air.
This is going to draw attention. Honking at four in the morning on this high-density street.
“Mind your own fuckin’ business,” he says. “That’s my future out there. And I need to talk to her. Are you from the hospital? One of those doctors always checkin’ out her ass?”
“Stay down, asshole. Don’t make me tell you again,” I say, then stride past him.
Crossing the street, I feel his eyes on me, so I look over my shoulder. He’s in the doorway.
I get in beside Amelia who is putting her seatbelt on, tears in her eyes.
“You okay, baby?” I ask.
“No,” she whispers, chin trembling, and this makes me want to go back and pound him to a pulp.
I feel my blood pressure rising. I grip the steering wheel and inhale deep. The air around here fuckin’ stinks. You couldn’t pay me to live on a street like this.
“Mason, please. Please get me out of here. Please?” Her soft, quivering voice just about undoes me.
I peel out so I can take my girl home.
***
She doesn’t want to talk. Every time my mouth is about to open, she senses it and either throws up a hand or says, “Don’t.”
After the third try, I ignore her don’t.
“Just got one thing to say right now, so let me say it. He was fucking around with someone tonight, Amie. I smelled pussy and cum on him. His cum.”