Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 358(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
“I know you don’t want to hear this, but he might be ignoring you.”
That stings more than it should although it’s something I also considered before my head took things to a dark place.
My phone beeps, indicating another call coming in.
“I have to go, Ads. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Dread begins to settle inside of me when I pull the phone from my ear to switch calls. It’s a local number, but one I don’t have programmed.
“Hello?”
“Madison?”
“Yes?”
“Hey, it’s Walker, down at the bar.” The sound of the jukebox playing fills the line for a brief second before he continues, “Chase is down here drunker than I’ve ever seen him. It’s probably best if someone came and got him.”
Anger flares up inside of me. I’ve been sitting on this couch waiting for him, and he’s been drinking himself stupid?
“Maybe—” I begin but snap my mouth shut.
My problem with Chase is on him alone, and I’d never risk the boys losing their father. As much as an asshole as he is right now in my eyes, they adore the man, and he’s been nothing but a great dad to them.
“I’ll be right there,” I tell Walker before ending the call.
My first instinct is to call Henry and tell him to go get his son, but he clearly has the boys. Not putting them in the position to see their father like that is protecting the boys, not protecting Chase. At least that’s what I tell myself as I make my way to the front door and slip on some sandals before grabbing my purse and car keys from the entryway closet.
My anger is a living, breathing thing, walking into the bar ten minutes later, but I find it difficult to maintain over the ten other emotions that threaten to take over at the sight of Chase in the middle of the dance floor. His hips swivel suggestively toward the woman dancing in front of him. As if that isn’t bad enough, there’s another woman plastered to his back.
I turn my eyes toward the bar, but all I get is a shrug from Walker as he slings a bar towel over his shoulder before turning to help another customer.
I have no right to be mad. If anything, this should make it easier for me, but it doesn’t. I don’t know that there’s anything right now that could make this hurt more than it does.
It feels like betrayal, as if he’s literally taking a knife to my skin and carving into the pain there.
Taking a fortifying breath, I cross the bar and stand in front of Chase. He blinks down at me, surprise in his eyes at first but then he looks away as if I’m not even there.
“Chase,” I growl, reaching for him.
He shrugs me off before I can grab his arm to pull him away.
He nearly loses his balance, but the very helpful women glaring at me somehow manages to keep him on his feet.
“I wish I’d never fucking met you,” he snaps in my direction, and the women chuckling is the icing on the cake.
I swallow every word I could say right now and walk away.
“Madison!” Walker snaps before I can make it back to the front door.
Slowly, I turn around and walk up to the bar.
“Chase Woodson is no longer my problem,” I snap.
I don’t bother to wait for his response.
Cash opens the door before I can grab the handle. I have a million things I want to say to this man, but he doesn’t deserve my ire right now. I’ve never been one to strike out at innocent people when I’m hurt or angry.
“Chase is in there drunk,” I tell him, hitching my thumb over my shoulder. “The boys deserve better than him getting arrested or hurt when he tries to drive home later.”
“I’ll make sure he gets home safely,” Cash assures me.
It’s all I need to hear to know that at least the town won’t be facing another tragedy when the sun comes up.
Chapter 31
Chase
Fear wraps its tendrils around me as I come back to consciousness. Every bone in my body aches, and the rotten taste in my mouth tells me that I’m in trouble even though my memories of what I’ve done are fuzzy.
I do my best to make a mental list of everything that hurts before I attempt to open my eyes. I don’t need to look up to find myself wrapped around a tree to know my face is scratched and the ache in my lower back isn’t going to go away anytime soon.
I groan as I try to move, my muscles refusing to cooperate fully.
I’m a stupid man. I let my anger at Madison drive my actions last night, and it makes me no better than Emily because the boys don’t deserve the fallout from this.