Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach when he looked up at me and gave me a sad smile in greeting. I slowly sat on a barstool beside him. “Reynolds, what’s going on?” None of this was making sense anymore, and I was feeling more and more lost by the day.
He took out my dad’s will and slid it over to me. “You might want to read this.”
Swallowing thickly, I grabbed the will and began to read over it. With each thing I read, my mouth proceeded to drop further to the floor. My gut twisted.
I wanted to scream.
How could he fucking do this to me?
“You mean he left me nothing and ordered me out of the club?” I breathed. I was in shock. I couldn’t believe what the fuck I’d just read. “I was his little girl. He loved me to death.” I felt like I was being strangled.
I bit my lip hard to stop the tears from falling out of my eyes. Dad left everything to Nicholas. I got it – my dad treated Nicholas like his own son, but really? He always said that I was his little girl. He slept with me in my room when I had nightmares. He ignored his own grief when mom died and tended to my needs, pushing the club to the side.
Did I actually mean so little to him? His dying wish was to order me out of the club – like I was nothing. Everyone in the club had to honor the dead president’s wish. You pledged to do that when you joined the club.
I had no option but to leave.
“You should finish reading it,” Mr. Reynolds murmured.
I don’t want my daughter at my funeral. I want my ashes to go to Nicholas. He’ll know what to do with them.
I tossed the papers aside and ran from the room, tears already rushing down my face.
I had no place to call home; I had no real family. My own father wanted me gone. If he felt like this the entire time, then why had he kept me?
When I got to my room, I slammed the door closed and slid down the wall next to it, sobbing. I bet Nicholas had known about this the entire time. I bet that’s why no one had tried to come to my rescue.
My dad had never wanted me in the first place.
Travis
I walked into the bar room just as Katie fled, heading towards the rooms in the back. Tears were running down her face. My gut twisted.
I looked around, spotting a man in a suit sitting at the bar with a broken expression on his face. I clenched my jaw.
That wasn’t good.
Something was wrong, and I intended to find out. There was no way in hell I was talking to a man who was a complete stranger to me. He’d most likely lie to my face or wouldn’t tell me anything at all.
I walked into Katie’s room and found her crying on the floor. With a muttered curse, I lifted her against my chest and carried her over to the bed. After setting her down, I grabbed her face in my hands and forced her to look at me.
I was going to kick the bastard’s ass that did this to her. Katie was a strong person; I knew with every fiber of my being that it would take a hell of a lot to make her cry.
She looked up at me with that broken expression, pain written across her features. It fucking ripped me apart, and it made me feel murderous. She yanked herself from my grip. “Get the fuck out of my room,” she sneered.
Well, welcome back, bitch.
I glared at her, no longer caring that she was crying or why. All I was trying to do was be nice to her and find out what had made her so upset, but instead, she threw it back in my face.
You could never show any ounce of kindness to this woman.
“Go fuck yourself,” I growled before I stormed out of the room, slamming her door shut behind me so hard that the sound echoed up the hallway and shook the walls.
I walked into the main room and went straight behind the bar, not even bothering to look to see who was in the room. I snatched a bottle of soda from the fridge and poured myself a large glass of it, fucking hating myself at that moment for not drinking any damn more. “You don’t drink anymore?” my dad asked.
I slammed the bottle down on the counter. He was the last fucking person I wanted to be dealing with right now. I was itching for a fight, and right now, he was becoming my number one target.
I glared at my dad. “It would be in your best interest to fuck off,” I growled.