Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
As I lay on the futon that night, Charli wasn’t far from my mind. Derek said it was obvious she was into me, and I’d noticed the signs, too, but it was still a fucking shock. Since she’d arrived, I felt like I was the one whose eyes always followed her when she entered a room, the one who’d happily spend as much time in her company as she was willing to accept. Elation rose in my chest to think the attraction wasn’t merely on my end. And the way she’d felt in my arms tonight, how she’d reacted to me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get over it.
The following day, my shift at work felt even more tiring than usual thanks to my first ever run with Derek. Muscles ached that I didn’t even know existed. And I missed Charli, missed her congenial banter as we cleaned countertops, stocked shelves, and washed endless dishes. I wished she was on shift with me, but she worked fewer hours than I did.
I just wanted to go home and sleep when I finally clocked out for the day, but that wasn’t to be. When I stepped out of the staff exit to the hotel, I found my dad lurking outside, waiting for me. He slunk from the shadows, smoking a cigarette as he approached. It was late evening, and there wasn’t anyone else around. My stomach turned at the sight of him. His clothes were rumpled, and he looked like he hadn’t showered in over a week.
“Rhys,” he practically growled, his eyes narrowing on me.
I didn’t even have the energy to be angry at him showing up at the hotel again. I was almost bored at his predictability.
“Why are you here, Dad?”
“Your mother wants a divorce,” he stated, and I could tell by the stiff way he took a drag from the cigarette he was fuming. He’d come to take it out on me. I glanced behind me, considering going back inside the hotel until he left because he had that nasty look in his eyes. The one he always got right before he attacked.
“You spoke to her?” I asked, feeling anxious and sick. Had he cornered her somewhere? Followed her until he could get her alone?
“No, she’s using her sister as a go-between,” he replied sourly, and I was filled with instant relief. “I went to your aunt’s house, but that bitch Claire wouldn’t let me in. She thinks she can stop me from speaking to my own bloody wife?! She told me your mother’s been talking to a lawyer about a divorce and that I should expect a letter soon. Is this your doing? Have you been pouring poison in her ear, son?”
“Mam divorcing you is her choice, and it’s nobody’s fault but yours,” I said, pausing and unable to help it when I continued, “As far as I’m concerned, it’s the best decision she’s ever made.”
The words had barely left my mouth when his fist connected with my jaw. My vision blurred before I pushed him off me. He launched himself at me again, getting a few more digs in, mostly to my stomach. I could’ve fought back, but I didn’t. And not because I was frozen by fear. This time, unlike every other time he’d hit me, there was a reason for my lack of retaliation. I let him beat on me until he was winded, stumbling back to catch his breath so he could come at me again.
My face and gut hurt, and I tasted blood from my split lip as I stared at my piece of shit father then pointed up at the cameras. Dad’s gaze rose, and his expression turned murderous when he realised he’d just beaten me to a pulp, and it was all recorded.
“You’re going to sign those divorce papers when they arrive, and you’ll agree to all of Mam’s terms. If you don’t, I’ll go to the Guards with the video of what you just did.” Dad had a record. He’d been arrested for drunk and disorderly behaviour numerous times over the years. He’d also just barely escaped prison time for GBH after a bust up he’d had with another patron at his favourite pub once. If I reported him and handed over video evidence, he was sure to do time. By the look in his eyes, he knew it, too.
I’d never seen him lost for words. He always had some vicious remark to spew, but not then. He turned and slunk away, and although I’d just been beaten black and blue, I felt triumphant. Finally, I had the power to keep him away from us for good.
I heaved myself from where I’d been slumped against the hotel wall and just about managed to get to Mam’s car. Lowering into the driver’s seat was a struggle, but I worked through the pain. By the time I reached Derek’s house, I considered just sleeping in the car because I didn’t want anyone to see me. My injuries weren’t serious, nothing I’d need to see a doctor for, but I looked worse than I felt. The bruises and split lip would heal. Besides, the pain was worth it to finally be rid of my father.