Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“Call me, Whitney! Something needs to be done!”
I’m on the verge of vomiting as I step out and stagger up back to the house. The sound of Justin’s car pulling away is nothing but a dull roar behind me. My mind is completely occupied with what I’ve just seen—and how big of a sucker I’ve been.
10
Whitney
It’s been a while since I woke up to this ceiling, but I still recognize it; it’s the ceiling of the bedroom I grew up in. The ceiling back at my parents’ house. After everything that happened, I needed somewhere to go and someone to be with who wasn’t involved in the illegal slave trade or mining of minerals. So right now, back home with the folks seemed like the best bet.
Of course neither of them could believe what I had to tell them—especially Mom.
“You actually went out with him, sweetie?” she gasped as I recounted the last few weeks to them over one of her incredible baked ziti dinners. “I never thought you would see a man like that.”
“Or a man as old as that,” my dad chimed in with a grumble.
“Yeah, well neither did I,” I replied. “And I guess I probably shouldn’t have in retrospect.”
It’s been a torturous twenty-four-hours or so. Ethan has been calling and calling, and I’ve just been ignoring him. I’ve even thought about just straight-up blocking him, but for some reason, I can’t seem to go ahead and do it. I don’t know why, and I hate myself for that.
I mean, the man stole my heart from me using nothing but his good looks and charms, convinced me he wasn’t the terrible man I thought he was, then ended up being exactly that man, and a part of me still loves him.
But I know it’s just going to be more lies. More lies and I can’t take them.
I can’t take the bullshit, the excuses, the twisting of reality that will make me doubt myself or what I’ve seen that proves what I’ve known from the start—that Ethan Newhouse is a horrible human being.
A horrible human being who I gave my innocence to. And that’s one thing I will never get back. That’s something that when I think about brings me to tears.
There’s a knock on my door, and I grab the edge of my blanket and wipe them away as my dad’s voice calls out kindly, “Whitney? Are you awake?”
“Y-yes, Dad. What is it?”
“That man, Ethan, is here,” he says.
“What?” I call out. “Are you joking?”
The door opens, and my dad steps in. “I’m not, I’m afraid. He’s been here for the last half-hour asking to see you. Your mother and I have both tried sending him away, but he says he won’t leave until he does.”
My body reacts in so many ways.
I am instantly hot, so hot I have to throw the covers off to keep myself from sweating. But at the same time, I go cold like I’m terrified and filled with adrenaline.
My heart starts instantly pounding like a drum beating fast within me, and every hair on my neck and arms starts to stand attention.
He’s downstairs. He’s downstairs right now.
It’s pointless to even wonder how he found this house. He’s a billionaire with unlimited resources—he can do basically anything. I may have even mentioned where they live once in passing; I can’t remember.
“So call the cops on him.” I shrug. “He’ll leave then.”
My dad looks at me in that father-daughter kind of way. “Whitney,” he simply says.
“What?”
“Are you sure you want me to do that?”
I hate it when he does this—makes me re-examine something I’ve just said or done. He’s been doing it since I can remember, and it always ends up with me realizing I’ve just done something stupid or said something I probably shouldn’t have.
Just like now.
I suck in a deep sigh and sink my head between my knees. “No. No, don’t call the cops on him. I’ll go down and see what he has to say.”
“Your mother and I are here for you,” my dad says, coming over and placing a loving hand on my back. “Always know that.”
“I know, Dad.” I smile up at him. At least there’s one man on this planet who I can say that about right now.
Ethan is standing out on the steps when I get downstairs. For the first time since I’ve known him, he isn’t carrying his quintessential charm, and when he smiles at me, it just doesn’t have the same oomph behind it as it usually does.
But there is something in his eyes—something I feel the moment he looks at me.
Love.
I feel it go straight through my chest and into my heart and have to stop myself from instantly bursting into tears as well.
This is a bad man, I tell myself. And you can’t love a bad man. Even if he loves you.