Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“No,” she mouths. “If I do that, they win. Everyone wins.”
I couldn’t be prouder of her. “Then we eat, and I’ll take you home, and we can have dessert at my house.” I don’t mean it like that, and the minute I hear the words, I want to kick myself, but then I see her eyes gloss over in lust, and I just smirk at her. “I didn’t mean it like that, but with the way your face just changed, you can take it however you want.”
She silently giggles, bringing her hand to her mouth as she looks at the menu. I order a plate of pasta and she does also. “Just focus on me,” I say when she looks like she’s about to crawl out of her skin. “Focus on me and nothing else.”
“Easier said than done.” She grabs a piece of fresh-baked bread when it arrives and puts butter on it. The whispers slowly die down like I knew they would. A couple of people even stop and say hello to us on their way to their table, which makes her feel a little bit more at ease.
I hurry through dinner, knowing this is probably killing her but also knowing she did nothing wrong. I pay the bill, and then I’m about to slide my hand in hers when we walk out. I head back to her car when she stops in her tracks. My eyes go from her face that had a soft smile on it to whatever she is looking at that made her stop.
The Cartwrights are walking down the street. Mr. and Mrs. Cartwright, heads held high, arm in arm as they walk, followed by their son, Winston, and his wife, Harmony. They look around, and the minute they set their eyes on Autumn, their faces twist into a sneer.
“Jesus Christ,” Winston hisses from behind his parents, “I thought she would be gone by now.”
“Winston,” Harmony chastises from beside him, avoiding looking at us.
“Well, what do we have here?” Mr. Cartwright says, looking at Autumn and then back at me. “Didn’t think we’d find you hanging around with scum.”
“I’d watch your mouth if I was you.” I step in front of her to block them from even looking at her. “Only scum I see standing on the street are the three people in front of me.” My arms cross over my chest. “The ones who live in glass houses.” I can feel her shaking behind me. “The ones who still think their shit doesn’t stink, but the minute they walk into the room, it reeks of shit.”
“Watch your fucking mouth.” Winston steps before his father to stand in front of me, and I have to look down at him.
“You think you scare me?” I stare into the eyes that are exactly like his father’s and his brother’s and laugh bitterly. “I was friends with a devil in sheep’s clothing and didn’t know.” He grinds his teeth. “But you guys knew”—I point at him—“knew that he was a no-good piece of—”
“Is that any way to speak of the dead?” Mrs. Cartwright holds a hand to her throat.
“Is the way you just spoke to Autumn any way to speak to a woman who was the victim of your son?” I hiss at them, wanting Winston to put his hands on me, secretly begging him to do it so I can beat the ever-loving shit out of him. I stare at Winston. “You guys are a joke.” I turn and look at Autumn, who is trying to breathe, but knowing she’s about to lose it and doesn’t want to do it in front of them. “Let’s go.” I grab her hand in mine as I shield her and walk away from them, stopping next to Mr. Cartwright. My voice goes very low so only he can hear me. “And if I find out that you pull any more shit on her, you’ll have to deal with me and my family.” I smile. “And between you and me, I would love nothing more than to drag your name through the mud.” He turns his eyes toward me. “Again.” I walk away with her hand in mine and her head looking down at the ground. “Don’t do it,” I say. “Don’t give them the satisfaction.” She looks at me, and I hold out my hand. “Keys.”
She lets go of my hand to reach into her purse and hands me the keys as she gets into the car. I pull out of the parking lot, going in the opposite direction of her house. She looks over at me. “Where are we going?”
I know I should take her home. I know she should go back to the place she feels safest, but there is somewhere else that I want her to feel safe in. “My house.”