Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“I know, you’re right. How could I have been so blind? I was so damn stupid.”
“Yes, you were, and you are. So, moving right along because I have no interest in whatever pity party you’re about to throw yourself, you mentioned that someone shared all of this information with you lately. But why now? Why did the person choose to come forward with this information now, after all these years? And why are you really here?”
“Because they’re planning to kill you.”
“Who’s planning to kill who? What are you talking about?”
“Janie and her dad are going to kill you.”
Chapter 42
*Elena*
“Don’t panic. I have everything under control. No one is going to hurt you.” I couldn’t help laughing at the worried look on his face. Then he looked really concerned when that laughter turned into howls of pure cackling. I was sure he thought I was losing my shit, but nothing could be further from the truth. My mind was as clear as a bell in the Italian countryside.
“Elena, what…?”
“Do you know what killing people with kindness does to them, Ryder? It eats them up inside, especially when they’ve done you wrong. Though they may have no conscience, some part of them, some minuscule thread of humanity, destroys them little by little.”
“I’ve always taken the high road. I’ve always shown kindness. Even when I was being torn apart inside and out, I put a smile on my face, and I never hit back, but there’s no way. I want them to pay. You think I’m afraid of some washed-up never has been an actor and his crackhead of a daughter?” I laughed even louder.
His eyes widened when I cracked my neck from side to side and rolled my shoulders like a prize fighter about to get into the ring. “You know what your problem is, Ryder; your spiritual leader works for the wrong team, I never did, but sometimes, good people go rogue.”
“I don’t understand; what’re you planning to do?”
“I’ll tell you later, but first, I want you to write down everything you did to me, including all the women you cheated on me with.”
“What? What good would that do, Elena? Come on. I just told you someone is planning to kill you.”
“And I told you I’m not afraid. What I am afraid of is falling for your bullshit again. So, I want it in writing; I want something I can look at if I ever become dumb enough to give you another chance.”
“And you think I’m going to do that? Excuse me for saying this, but I think that’s your illness talking. I don’t think you’re pro… Hey.” My hand hurt from slapping him that hard, and I couldn’t believe that after almost thirty years of living, I’d actually hit someone, but the handprint that was beginning to form on his cheek was proof enough.
I had to admit, it felt good, so I did it again, with the other hand, on the other cheek. I didn’t think I would’ve stopped if he hadn’t grabbed my wrists and pulled me into his chest. “Stop, please stop. It’s okay. I’ll write whatever you want.” I was the one having a meltdown, so why was he the one shaking?
I pulled back and looked up at him through the new bout of tears that had started falling from my eyes and saw the fear in his. “So, write.”
“Not here. Let’s go inside It’s a bit chilly in here with the door broken.” I looked towards the door that I’d all but forgotten. It needed to be fixed, but that would have to wait until the morning. For now, the way he’d propped it up was good enough, I guess, since no one else would dare break into my home.
“Fine, let’s go.” I led the way into the main part of the house, not really wanting him there. It had taken me forever to get every bit of his essence out of my home, and I wasn’t looking forward to him making new memories here that I would have to erase. He acted very strangely as we walked through the house, almost like he was inspecting it or something.
“What’re you doing?”
“Nothing. Just notice all the changes. May I have some coffee while I do this?”
“I guess!” I begrudgingly turned on the coffee pot after finding him a notebook and pen in one of the kitchen drawers. He played around with his watch as if he were nervous, and that just made my heart smile. Idiot!
He started writing while I made coffee, and I started to wonder if maybe he was right and I was having an episode because I felt way too calm for the present situation. But I didn’t feel like I was heading for a breakdown; I know what that feels like, and this wasn’t it.