Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Choice? What choice? Tell me!” My hand closes around her arm. I think of Briggs, all the times he’s grabbed me this way. But this is different. I’m not doing it to hurt her.
“I…” She keeps me waiting through a deep breath before blurting it out. “I was pregnant. I got pregnant by him, and right away, he told me I had to have an abortion.”
My hand drops to the faded cushion under me. “Oh, Mom…”
“Like I said, I made my choice.” She runs her hands over her flushed cheeks. “I told him I didn’t want to at first, and then he offered to get you into the university for free. Because he knew how much I wanted that for you.”
“He did?”
“I told him I wanted a better life for you. I told him how smart you are, how creative and how you’re the one thing I’m proud of. He knew that. He knew that was the only thing he could offer that would make me agree.”
All the air leaves my body in one deep sigh. “And what did I do it for?” she asks, almost laughing. “It could get you killed. I could get you killed. And I already killed my… my other…” Folding her arms over her stomach, she closes her eyes, shaking from the force of fresh sobs.
She did it for me. All these years, I was sure she didn’t care, that I was just an inconvenience she was stuck with. There were times I wondered if she wished I wasn’t born.
And now here she is, crying over a baby that will never be because a disgusting, evil man made her choose between us.
“I’m sorry, Mom.” It’s a little awkward, reaching out to rub her back while she cries, but it’s all I can do. Right now, we’re both victims.
26
BRIGGS
I’m fucking pissed. Wren is not answering any of my messages or calls, and she didn’t show up for class this morning. Ready to confront her, I jog over to the dorms.
When I get to her door, I pull the key from my pocket and unlock it. I push inside ready to give her a piece of my mind for daring to ignore me again, when I come to a sudden halt.
Her room is a fucking mess. Someone has gone through the little stuff she has and destroyed it all. Her paintings and drawings ripped apart and scattered across the floor.
Fuck! A dark pit forms in my stomach. Someone broke in here and did this. What if she was here? What if someone took her? My heart beats a million miles per minute at the thought.
“Wren?” I call out for her, hoping she might be in the bathroom, but when I poke my head inside, I realize she is really not here. That’s when I spot something on her desk. A note. Scribbled in the same handwriting as the other.
LAST CHANCE, ROACH. LEAVE OR DIE!
Losing control, I crumble the note up and throw it across the room. My breathing comes heavy, my chest rising and falling rapidly. At least this means they didn’t take her. She must have seen the note and left.
I run my fingers through my hair and rake my brain on where to look for her next. Would she go back to Buck’s place? Or maybe Maya?
I end up trying both. First, I drive to her old apartment and knock on the door like I’m about to kick it down. Buck answers right away.
“Is Wren here?” I ask as soon as he opens the door with a beer in his hand.
“No, man, I haven’t seen her since she moved out.” Lucky for him, I believe him.
I try Maya next. I call around until I get her number through friends. She answers on the third ring.
“Hello?”
I get straight to the point. “It’s Briggs, is Wren with you?”
“Even if she was, I wouldn’t tell you,” she snaps at me. I ignore her salty attitude.
“Someone destroyed her dorm room, trashed the place, broke her shit and left a threatening note.”
“What? No! If you had anything to do with it—”
“If I did, why would I try to find her now?”
“I don’t know what goes on in your fucked up mind but if I find out you hurt my friend again, I’m coming after you, asshole.”
“Save your threats for someone else. Help me find Wren so I can make sure she is okay.”
“And why do you care all of a sudden if she is okay or not?”
That’s a good question. Why do I care? I don’t fucking know.
“I just do okay.” It’s all I can tell her.
“She is not with me, and I don’t know where else she would be. She hasn’t messaged or called me, but I will try to call her as soon as I get off the phone with you.”