Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
He held out my books and opened my satchel to shove them inside, then turned to my Vespa.
“I can give you a ride. It’ll be faster. Not sure it’s safe to drive when you’re worked up like this. Especially that thing.”
Nope. I’d told him the truth, but he wasn’t about to witness it firsthand.
I shook my head and turned to my Vespa. “Thanks, but I’m fine.” Which wasn’t the truth. This day was just getting worse.
“Uh, no, you’re not. Looks like you’ve got a flat front tire,” he told me, and my stomach instantly sank as my eyes dropped to the tire.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked.
“Back looks low too. You must have run over something on the way here this morning. Come on. My car is right over here.”
Fantastic. I had no option. Amory Blaine was stepping in to fix all my problems. Well, some of them at least.
I nodded, no longer able to argue. I had to get to Grams.
“Thanks,” I said as he led me over to his shiny silver Porsche.
I heard the doors unlock as we reached it, and then he opened the passenger side for me.
“Just glad I’m here,” he said.
Sometimes, I was sure fate hated me. Today, it seemed to have some pity on me and toss me a sexy, wealthy, tall man to make some of the shit that was being thrown at me less difficult. I’d thank it for the mini break, but since I still had to deal with my dad in jail and the possibility that Grams had burned the house down, I wasn’t going to be that generous yet.
I buckled my seat belt as Amory walked around to get inside the driver’s seat. My hands were balled into fists on my thighs as he started the car up and backed out of the parking spot. I would have to come back here and deal with the tires at some point today. Leaving it here would cause attention I didn’t need. Which meant spending more money that I didn’t need to spend.
“Can you call the house? Check on your Grams?” he asked me as he headed toward the main road.
I shook my head. “No house phone. We had one a couple of years back because she refused to use cell phones, but when she got worse, the sound of it ringing confused her and caused her to get upset.”
He glanced over at my seat belt. “You buckled up tight?” he asked.
I nodded, unsure why he was asking until the car shot off, causing me to be pressed against the smooth leather. My eyes closed when he swerved around a car going slower—at the speed he was going, every car was going slower.
“If we end up in jail for speeding, it’s not gonna help Grams,” I said.
A deep chuckle had me opening my eyes to look at him. He seemed amused, as if he was above the law.
“We won’t. Trust me.”
Oddly enough, I found that I was starting to—trust him, that was. I wasn’t one to trust, but Amory was making it easy to give in and believe him. He’d done nothing but be there for me today when things could have been much worse. Perhaps he was above the law. He seemed to make others bend to his wishes. Even me.
“That seems to be the mantra of the day,” I replied.
He cut his eyes at me. “What?”
I pointed at the road. “Please, if you’re going to drive like you stole this car, then keep your eyes straight ahead. We might not go to jail, but death is a possibility.”
He grinned, but he was looking where he needed to be now.
“Trusting you,” I told him. “The mantra. I don’t have any other choice but to trust you.”
He started to jet around another car, and I held my breath until we were safely in front of them.
“Don’t make me regret it,” I added.
Because I had trusted before, and I’d been burned. Too many times. I had trusted friends, who let me down; my father, who had taught me at a young age not to trust him with anything; and then I’d trusted Merce.
My thoughts went to Merce. Could it have been him who told on me? Would he do that? I hadn’t broken up with him. He was the one who ended it. But I had refused to talk to him in front of the other guys in his fraternity on Friday night. He stayed the entire game, then followed me out, pleading with me to let him explain. There was nothing left to explain. It was over. What had he expected me to do? I was moving on with my life. He’d told me to, and I was.
He had an ego the size of Mount Rushmore. Would my not speaking to him have caused him to retaliate like this? I didn’t want to think he would blatantly hurt me this bad, but then I’d learned he couldn’t be trusted, hadn’t I?