Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Ty pinched the bridge of his nose. Sure, for the first few years, they’d been as she described. But that had long faded into resentment and apathy before they ever decided to have a baby. Looking back on it now, he could see they’d have been a disaster trying to parent together.
But it didn’t excuse her behavior.
Nothing would.
“This isn’t about the abortion, Trina. It’s your body. This is about the thousands of lies. Even now, when you’re caught, you’re still lying. We kept trying, even after you got pregnant once. That would have been the perfect time to clue me in on your change of heart, don’t you think? But no, you kept on lying.”
“Come on, Ty. Don’t be mad. You didn’t even want a kid at first. You know I’m right. How about we meet up this weekend? We can talk about it more. There’s a cute little B&B about halfway—”
“Fuck off, Trina,” he said before ending the call. “God-fucking-dammit.” He chucked his phone to the ground and took another swig of tequila before hurling the bottle over the fire. It slammed into a tree with a satisfying pop and shatter.
No one knew how to rile him up like Trina, and not in the way she’d been hoping for.
“I shouldn’ta opened the damn safe,” he grumbled. “Shouldn’ta tossed the booze either. Fuck.” He rubbed his forehead with a sigh.
If only he’d left well enough alone and thrown the safe out. He could have remained blissfully unaware of his wife’s—ex-wife’s betrayal.
He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, listening to the crackle of the fire and the chirp of the cicadas in the trees. His alcohol-soaked brain began to go offline, exactly what he needed—the peaceful oblivion of a good blackout.
As he floated on the edge of consciousness, the hairs on the back of his neck rose to attention.
Crack.
He bolted up and then grabbed the gun as the snapping of a twig echoed like gunfire in the quiet night.
Gone was his buzz, and in its place, a readiness to act and fight if necessary.
Stillness reigned all around him, but someone was out there. He could feel it.
“Show your face, motherfucker!” he shouted.
Silence.
He cocked the gun. “I’m counting to five, then I’ll just start shooting. One… two…”
His head whipped toward crunching leaves as a person emerged from the wooded area behind the clubhouse. His eyes bugged and jaw dropped as his visitor came into full view. Maybe he was drunker than he thought because he had to be hallucinating.
“Hey.” The vision spoke.
“Well, fuck me sideways.”
CHAPTER SIX
THREE DAYS OF living alone in a giant building meant to house more than a dozen women had Kelsie going a little stir-crazy. Used to being on her own, she hadn’t anticipated the sharp tug of loneliness or boredom, but her entire apartment could have fit in the shelter’s common area, and having so much space to roam had her feeling aimless.
Granted, she hadn’t been totally alone. The women affiliated with the shelter and, thus, the MC, all stopped by at various times to work on different projects. Brenna, to paint and arrange furniture, Brooke and Harper to work in their offices, and Liv to, well, she didn’t know what Liv’s role was yet, but the woman brought sparkle and pizzazz wherever she went.
They’d given Kelsie a wide berth, probably afraid to say the wrong thing and trigger a breakdown. Harper was the only one who’d approached her, but even the social worker seemed to walk on eggshells in Kelsie’s presence.
After a few days, she needed to get out but had nowhere to go and no transportation to get there. Her apartment in Tampa might have been a shitty studio without any amenities to speak of, but at least she could get around the city without a vehicle. Here, she felt trapped in some regard.
It’d been extra quiet around the shelter for most of the day today. The club members must have had an event to attend because the entire property seemed stiller and more silent than usual. Typically, something was happening, and as she had a view of the clubhouse from her large window, she could watch the members coming and going all day long.
But not today.
By the evening, she couldn’t stand the thought of bingeing another television series or searching for a new book to read. She needed to move and get out of the building. Exploring the grounds had seemed like a terrifying notion as she worried about running into any of the large, tattooed bikers in leather vests and losing her shit in front of them, humiliating herself even more than she already had. But she couldn’t deny the pull of curiosity that grew with each passing day.
Maybe tonight was the perfect time to scout around and investigate the property.
What if you run into someone and have a panic attack?