Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Wait, what? Jackal has leaked some fuel?!
I’m laughing over here, Katy. L-O-L, as the kids say, right? I meant jackal the car, not Jackal the dog.
I laugh in pure delight, tipping my head back and letting out joy. I can hardly take the relief surging through me to laugh, knowing he’s okay and coming home.
LOL. I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’ve got any friends.
You’re an amazing person. You could have as many or as few friends as you wanted.
Maybe, I don’t know, I reply, biting my lip and letting it go. I’ve never had the time.
You’ve got the time now, he texts. You’ve spent the last few years living for your mother, but she will have all the care she needs. You don’t need to work as a cleaner anymore. You’re never going back to that apartment.
Excitement flutters in me, but I don’t want to leap too eagerly into this. This is the cherry on top of this magical, incredible connection. It’s not the cake. It’s not the best part. I never want him to think that. I meant what I texted about the tent.
You’re allowed to be excited, his follow-up text reads, making me laugh again. It’s like he reads my mind as easily as a text. Don’t worry. I believe you. We’re in this together, you and me. God, I hate that I’m about to fix my car so I can come back to you. I should be with you now.
You were scared, I reply. You don’t have to explain.
You were more scared than I could be. You’d just seen your father’s killer. I’ll never forgive myself for leaving tonight.
I sit up, thumbs moving rapidly. Don’t say that. Don’t even think that, Sam. We’re going to be together for the long haul, right?
One thousand percent.
Then I can’t have you thinking like that, I reply. You need to know that I understand. I know why you had to leave, but I don’t judge you. I want you. I need you. I don’t care if this sounds desperate. I NEED you.
It’s okay if you’re desperate, he replies. I’m desperate, too, like a wolf that hasn’t eaten in weeks. I’m desperate for you.
My skin sizzles all over, a layer of tickling pleasure. It’s like my body doesn’t care about the tear in my heart: the hole that lets the past in, the memories of that night, the rain, the red. If anything, my hunger gets even more intense, as if my womb thinks it’s a dangerous time. We need my man’s seed now. It’s fight or flight. Flight or fuck…
Think about what you want to do, he texts. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you if you want to stay at home and raise the kids, have a career, or if you want both. All of it, Katy, the whole world, it’s yours.
It’s hard to think about that now, I reply. I want you here so you can hold me. So I can hear all of this in your voice.
Don’t wait up for me. I’ll wake you up.
More sizzling dances over my body. I clench my legs together, a pulse making my clit ache. Is it bad that it makes me excited?
Why would it be bad?
With everything that’s happened…
I imagine him smirking as he sends his reply. With everything that’s happened, it will be a miracle if I don’t maul you like a bear the second I see you. You drive me wild, and knowing you want the same makes me wilder.
My legs squeeze together tighter. It’s not like I can even think I’m pushing them together. It feels like the lust has become a separate thing, controlling me, making me want to push down on my sex and think of him.
Then you better get to fixing that car.
Distract me, he writes. You said you wanted to help people.
I do. I’d love to help people like Mom, those suffering from addiction. I know, Sam. We’ll make the most fantastic charity together. We’ll match therapy dogs with people who need them. People with PTSD or other issues, anything that would push them back into use. A friend to be in the store with them. That’s what we’ll do!
I click send, suddenly filled up with the idea. It started just as a notion, but there’s something there. There’s a way it could work.
That’s just an idea, I type. I don’t want to be presumptuous.
I don’t click send. His reply has arrived. Did you just think of that? Of all the ways I’ve imagined retiring from my current line of work, that is by far the most appealing.
Yeah, I did. It’s not an original idea.
Don’t put yourself down. Let’s do it. I’ve listened to signs my whole life, and this is a sign. One day, we’ll have that charity together. It will be hugely successful, and you’ll be the woman behind it all.