Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“Bailey!” I gasped, sprinting to her side. I lifted her up and forced her to look at me. “Bailey. Bails, are you okay? Can you hear me?”
She laughed. Her pupils were blasted out, as wide as saucers. “Evie!”
“Bailey, we need to get you out of here.”
“No, Evie, stay!” She tugged on my arm. All the strength from her athletic training evaporated in the wake of the drugs. “Stay! We’re having such a good time.”
I recoiled from that assessment. She wasn’t in her right mind. She needed help.
“Sorry, kiddo, it’s time to go home.”
“No! I’m not going home. I’m never going home again. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.” She slurred the last word and tugged out of my arms. “I’m going to stay here, where it’s quiet.”
Quiet. Yes, a rager was so quiet.
I knew she meant in her mind. It was one of the things she’d confessed to me after rehab with all her many hours of therapy. The problem when Gram had died was that her grief was so severe that she couldn’t quiet the anxiety in her mind, that loud voice that yelled at her constantly day and night. Medicine helped to an extent. If she had stayed the course, I was sure antidepressants and anxiety pills could have done the trick, but too late. She’d found something that worked a lot faster.
“You don’t have to go back with him, but you can’t stay here either.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Xavier asked from the bedroom. He was in a grungy white tank top and distressed jeans. He’d grown a curly mullet since I’d last seen him, and it did him no favors.
“We’re leaving.”
“Fuck no, you’re not.”
“Try to stop us,” I snarled.
He tipped his chin at her. “She owes me two thousand dollars.”
I nearly screamed. “What the fuck did she take for two thousand dollars?”
He shrugged. “She was going to work it off with me. I don’t mind if you want to help.”
Then, he winked, and I considered punching him in the face.
This was the first moment that I’d wished Whitt were here. That guy would have never fucking said that to me with him at my side.
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” I said, tugging Bailey to her feet.
“Look, baby—”
“I already called the cops,” I lied. His eyes narrowed. “I know who your daddy is, but even you can’t escape what’s all over this house.”
“You wouldn’t do that while she’s here.”
“You sure?”
But he wasn’t. I could see it on his stoned face.
“Fuck,” he ground out. Then, he turned and walked out.
“You called the cops?” Bailey asked, fear suddenly registering.
“Yeah. We have to get out of here.”
I didn’t give her a chance to respond. I grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the house. Xavier’s fancy sports car zipped away just as I got her to the car. He hadn’t even told anyone else that the cops were coming. What an asshole.
I forced Bailey into the car. My anger mounting every second that she fought me along the way. I wanted to kick and scream and rage at her. But I was just so relieved that she wasn’t dead. All I could do was buckle her seat belt and drive away.
There would be time for my anger.
Time for her to account for what she’d done.
But right now, she was safe.
31
Whitton
Harley was the only one sober enough to drive since she’d given up her seltzer hours earlier. She held her hand out. “Keys.”
I blinked at her. “You’re not driving my car.”
“I didn’t drive here. West picked me up.”
“West, give her the keys.”
West grinned as he admired his new red BMW M2. It was the fancy car he’d always wanted when he was broke as shit. “It’s a stick shift.”
“I can drive a stick shift,” Harley said with a wicked grin on her lips.
West snorted. “Oh, we’ve seen exactly what you do with a stick shift. You almost ruined Mom’s transmission.”
“Hey! That wasn’t my fault.”
“Whose fault was it then?” West asked. “No way are you destroying my brand-new car.”
I cursed under my breath. The world was conspiring against me. “Why would you buy a stick shift anyway?”
West shrugged and pointed at the shiny sports car. “She handles better.”
“Fine.” Harley waggled her fingers. “Keys, please.”
I closed my hand over the keys, reluctance in every fiber of my being. Then, West’s words came back to me. Control. I had to be in control. I’d always known that. But what had it gotten me anyway? Eve was gone, and no amount of control could keep her here.
I was in free fall. Might as well jump.
I slapped the keys into her hand. “Please be careful.”
“Oh, I will.” She skipped around to the driver’s side.
Dismay settled over me as I yanked open the passenger door. Today, I was going to have to break all of my rules.