Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
He was watching me, reading me. “You woke up today, huh?”
I knew he wasn’t asking about the actual physical act of waking, more like the mental version. “Yeah. I woke up.” My voice trembled.
“Right. Okay.” He pulled a chair forward, sitting and resting his elbows on his knees. He was sitting, facing me. “What do you want to do?”
“How much were the funeral costs?”
“What?”
“My parents died.” All three of them now. “There was an accident. The car would’ve needed to be towed. The funeral costs. Coffins. The burial sites. Headstones. You said you covered my costs, but what about those?”
“I meant everything.” A soft curse under his breath. “Dusty, you don’t need to worry about that.”
I looked at him, really looked at him. So much was weighing on him. He’d taken all of my shit on without a second thought to what exactly that entailed. Why? We hated each other.
“Why are you doing all this for me?”
His head lifted. The torment there cleared into wonder. His eyebrows dipped together. “Because I considered you family at one point. And I liked your mom.”
My mom. Right.
That was why.
Some of the confusion cleared. “I need to know how much everything costs, Stone. I have to know.”
He was saying one thing, but he wasn’t being honest. I could feel it. It was driving me nuts.
“Your aunt took care of it all.”
Another lie.
“Bullshit.” I knew there’d been a contentious relationship between Gail and her sister. She had called twice asking Gail for money, and I knew Gail turned her down both times. “Did my aunt even travel for the funeral?”
I was watching him, and I saw it. His nostrils flared. Guilt flared before he swallowed, dipping his head a little. “No. She was contacted by your parents’ lawyer, said she wasn’t in the will, and when asked about Jared, she couldn’t have given him away quicker than she did.”
That sounded right this time.
“Who took care of everything? I know you’re lying.”
He hesitated.
“TELL ME!”
His chair jerked back, but a deep wariness just passed over his face. “My parents did. My father, to be exact.”
Fuck. It was worse than I thought.
“Why?”
“Because I made him. Because I threatened to never come home again unless he manned up and righted every fucking wrong he ever did to your family. My dad took care of mostly everything, and no, you will never know how much any of it cost. He also took care of your schooling for the next two years. Your campus got a sizeable donation in your name, along with a check for your schooling costs.” He shoved out of his chair, his eyes flashing. His face hard. “Consider it done, and honestly, I don’t want to hear another goddamn word about it again. It’s the least my family could do.”
His phone started blaring, but he looked down on me. “And with all that said, I’m going to make myself something to eat, head into the theater room, and put on something mindless to watch. You’re welcome to join me, or not. I don’t give a shit, just don’t leave, because in your state, you’d probably walk into oncoming traffic.”
He wasn’t wrong.
But it would’ve been on accident, not intentional, and admitting that much to myself, I found my room and curled under the covers again.
I’d call Jared in the morning.
Chapter Seventeen
Stone was shirtless.
Stone was only wearing sweatpants.
Those sweatpants were hanging seriously low over his hips.
And, he had a lot of bruises on his back. I was guessing they were from his game.
Oh, and he was making breakfast when I walked into the kitchen.
He stopped, his coffee cup in hand, the other manning the toaster, and glanced at the clock. “It’s five in the morning.”
“You say that like I’ve not been awake most of the night.” I grunted, sliding onto one of those many barstools of his. He was clear across the counter and the island. I noted, “Kitchens shouldn’t be this big. Who else lives here? What’s the need for this much size?”
He stared at me, his mouth flattening. “Good morning to you, too.”
Another grunt from me. “Sorry. I’m a bit bitchy.”
He hid a grin. “That a new development or…?”
“Fuck off.”
He didn’t hide the grin this time, laughing as the toast popped up. “You want one?”
I considered it. I did, but I shook my head. “Coffee?”
He paused, his eyes narrowed on me. “When’s the last time you ate?”
“When did that feeding tube get pulled out of me?”
He swore under his breath, buttering one of the pieces of toast for me. Placing it in front of me with a firm thud, he leaned over the counter. “Eat. Now.”
“I’m not hung—”
“I don’t give a shit.” He pointed at it. “You don’t eat, you’ll end up right back in the hospital. I, for one, am sick of picking you up there. The nurses got more forward the second time I was there.”