Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
I eye her up, searching for any visible sign of distress. “Are you all right?”
Arms crossed, she nods.
It strikes me as a self-protective gesture, though, so I’m not so sure. I look back at Hayden, my eyes narrowed. “What did you need to discuss with my daughter by herself?”
“It’s fine, Mom,” she says before he can say anything. “He wasn’t mean to me or anything. We just talked, and he apologized.” She glances over her shoulder at Landon, who is still watching her like a little creep.
I grab her shoulders and pull her in front of me. “We need to go.”
Parker nods her head but says she needs to talk to the police officer about one more thing she forgot on her report before we leave. I offer to go with her, but she doesn’t want me to.
I don’t like her even approaching the officer since Landon is sitting right there, but the officer seems to understand they need to be separated, so he directs her to follow him into a nearby office.
Now that my daughter is out of the room, my attention returns to Landon.
He must feel my gaze on him because while he was still looking at the door Parker walked through, now he looks back at me and looks me directly in the eye.
I glare at him so he feels bad, but he doesn’t.
He smiles and gives me a little wave.
Ugh, he’s such a jerk.
Looking back at Hayden, I cross my arms and say, “Now do you see the problem?”
He nods, and I can see that he does. “I didn’t realize how serious it was.”
“I tried to tell you.”
“I know you did.”
Since he’s not arguing with me, I don’t know what else to say.
I look down, noticing the granules of sand stuck to my feet since I put my shoes back on in such a hurry.
The memory surfaces of my arms wrapped around him, his lips on mine. How much I wanted him…
The waves lapped at the shore too soon. Our picture got erased before we could even finish drawing it.
Without anger and fear, I just feel a little sad.
I really did like him, it just doesn’t matter.
It’s like I said from the beginning—there’s no future for us together. It’s just not possible.
“I don’t know if I’ll need a lawyer to handle this stuff with Landon, but obviously, if I do, it can’t be you. Since I’ll probably have to hire someone more in my price range, I’ll just have them deal with my neighbor stuff if it’s a problem going forward. I’m not even sure what my neighbor was responsible for and what Landon did. Maybe my neighbor is just a creepy sexist and not responsible for any of the other stuff.”
“I’ll talk to Landon and find out,” he assures me. “I’ll let you know.”
I nod. “Thanks. Beyond that, I don’t think we should talk anymore.”
He doesn’t look surprised. He nods, but it doesn’t feel like agreement, just an acknowledgment of my preferences.
I’m too tired to insist on clarification.
It has been the longest, most terrifying night of my life, and all I want to do is go home and curl up in bed with my daughter, where I can rest assured that she is safe and sound and within my reach.
Parker emerges from the office and makes her way to me with her head down, probably to avoid catching Landon’s gaze again. I escort her out of the building as quickly as possible so we can put all this behind us.
When we get outside, I realize I’ll have to drive her car home since I don’t have mine.
Parker seems to realize it, too, when she gets in the passenger seat and frowns thoughtfully at the door leading into the police station.
She looks over at me, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Did you and Landon’s dad get here at the same time?”
I don’t have the energy left to lie to her tonight. It feels pointless to have made it this far without her knowing and then have to come clean, but I’m on the verge of mental exhaustion and just don’t have it in me.
“I was with him when he got the call that Landon had been arrested. I checked my phone and realized I’d missed all those calls and texts from you. It was because I was with him.”
Understandably, she looks confused. “But… why? Where were you?”
“At the beach,” I say softly, starting up the car and mustering what’s left of my energy to drive us home.
When we pull into the driveway, it feels like the scene of a crime.
I guess because it is.
There’s dust residue on the doorknob from where they collected his fingerprints. When I walk into the kitchen, I can’t help knowing someone else was in this room while I was out—someone who meant to do my daughter harm.