Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“What happened when she realized?” Merriam asked.
“She was killed,” I replied. “By my father. One day she was there, the next she wasn’t.”
“What happened?” she gasped, shock evident in her voice.
“My dad killed her. Shot her. Then himself.” I felt the usual nausea sweep through me at the reminder.
“So you and your siblings had to experience that in some very pivotal years during your childhood.” She closed her eyes. “I have shielded Anleigh from my dad’s treatment. She’s never seen me get hurt.”
I touched the tip of her nose, causing her to open her eyes. “Good.”
“But what does that have to do with you helping me pay for a lawyer?” she asked.
I grinned. “I donate almost a quarter of my salary every year to help women escape abusive situations.”
She blinked.
“When I was drafted, I made it my life’s mission to make sure that if a woman wanted to leave, she could,” I continued. “And helping you would be no different than me helping those women at a shelter.”
“Maybe you’re right, but…”
I interrupted her comment with one of my own. “I like you, Merriam.”
She closed her mouth.
“And I know you like me,” I continued. “I want to see where this goes. But in order to do that, I have to help you get yourself free first. You have to stand on your own two feet, and I want to help you do that. And when you’re finally able to do that, I want you to choose to come back to me.”
Her eyes softened.
“What are you trying to say?” she asked.
“I want to help you every step of the way,” I exclaimed. “I want to help you find a job you’ll love. I want to help you find an apartment. I want to help you watch over Anleigh when you start working. I want to be with you, in any capacity that you’ll let me.”
She looked down, her eyes studying the white sheets beneath us, before looking back up. “But what’s in it for you?”
My stomach knotted.
“You,” I whispered. “I get you.”
She was already shaking her head in defeat. “I’m no prize, Jeremiah. I come with a lot of baggage. I have zero experience doing anything besides working the front counter at a candy store. I have had one, and only one, sexual encounter that resulted in a child. A child that’s scared to death of speaking above a whisper because my father yelled any time she got over a certain decibel. I have no clue what I want to do with my life. I have no money, horrible credit, and a laundry list of negatives that practically scream that I’m a bad catch. I’m not worth it, Jeremiah.”
My stomach dropped. The fact that she thought she wasn’t worth it. That she wasn’t a prize.
I shot an arm forward and pulled her into my heat, then rolled, putting her underneath my body. “You’re everything that I’ve ever dreamed of.”
She started shaking her head. “I’m not that…”
“I peed the bed until I was twelve,” I persisted.
Her mouth dropped open.
“Every time I lose a game, I get in the worst fucking mood ever.” I continued to list my faults. “When I get sick, I turn into a baby that my family hates to be around. Even my own grandmother can’t stand me.”
She snorted. “That’s not a bad thing. You can’t help how you act when you’re sick.”
“No.” I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you’ll be finding out in a couple of days because your daughter’s sick. What I’m saying is, I have so many faults. Maybe it’ll be you that wants nothing to do with me.”
She snorted.
“I donate or give away almost three-quarters of my salary,” I said. “If I see a homeless person on the side of the road, I give them everything that I have in my wallet.”
Her lips tipped up. “That’s a bad thing?”
“It is when you needed to give that money to someone who was expecting it,” I said. “I can’t manage it, either. I seriously can’t control my spending habits. At any given time, I very well might be in the negative and not even know it until my bank calls and tells me that I am.”
She laughed. “You’re delusional, Jeremiah. All you have to do is get an accountant that can help you. Or a financial adviser.”
“My grandmother does it,” I admitted. “She gives me an allowance every week.”
She giggled, which was the most beautiful thing in the world.
“I have a college education,” I admitted. “But only because I was extremely good at playing hockey. I would’ve flunked out, no question, had my coaches not wanted me to play at their college so badly. They talked to the teachers, and I got a diploma, but seriously, it’s in name only.” I looked deep into her eyes. “I’m not dumb. I just have some serious ADD—attention deficit disorder. I can’t sit still. I hate just being cooped up, forced to do something I don’t want to be doing.”