Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
It’s a lie, but I know it’ll hurt him, maybe just enough to make him leave.
It’s not that I want to hurt him, because I don’t, it’s just that he’s the kind of man who doesn’t take no for an answer unless you torment him to the point he can no longer keep pushing.
“What?” he asks, jerking his head back.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t planning it. It just happened.”
“You’re sleeping with someone else?”
I grit my teeth. “Yes.”
A lone tear rolls down his cheek.
My gosh. How did I last so long with him?
“How could you?”
“Theo ... we’re over. I made that clear. You’re acting like I cheated on you.”
“You might as well have!” he shouts, shaking his head. “I gave you everything.”
It was the opposite, but okay.
I was the one working.
It was my apartment he lived in.
I had the car.
He is hardly in the position to throw that little chestnut around.
“I’m not doing this. Please, just go home.”
He shakes his head in disgust. “I can’t believe I drove all this way to see you.”
Me either, buddy. Me either.
I don’t say anything, I just give him a pitiful smile.
Like that’ll do anything to make him feel better.
He turns and walks down the front steps, looking back up at me when he reaches the bottom. “You’ll regret this one day. You’ll never find a man like me again.”
Then, he’s gone.
Well, that was dramatic, to say the least.
I didn’t want to break it to him that there are hundreds of men like him out there.
I’m sure he’ll find a woman that he’ll be perfect for, but, unfortunately for him, that woman wasn’t me.
I’m not entirely sure that I’m perfect for anyone, come to think of it.
I’m just a little too much for all of them.
And at the same time, simply not enough.
FLICKING THROUGH THE papers in the box, I shove most of it in the trash. I have no idea what it is Theo thought was important here. Most of it consists of old bills, medical records, lease agreements, and other such things. I’m about to slam the box closed when I come across a receipt. At first, I very nearly toss it aside, but then I find myself bringing it up closer to my face. It’s a receipt for a car repair—paintwork and bodywork. It’s odd because I don’t ever recall Chloe telling me she had damaged her car.
The other strange thing is that it’s for a town four hours away from where she lived. Why would she go to another town to get her car repaired? Why wouldn’t she just do it where she lived? She knew the locals well enough to have work done for a lot cheaper than what she paid for here. Frowning, I look at the date, and something about that has me digging further. It was around the time Colt said she came back and was never the same again.
What am I missing here?
I type in the name of the place she went, but nothing stands out about it. It’s a large place with plenty of business. Shaking my head, I pull out my laptop and begin searching for big events that happened around that date, and that’s when I see it. Something that makes my blood run cold. Something that I know I should have figured out sooner. It was only a few weeks after the hit and run that killed Colt’s sister, Jeannie.
Could it be?
No.
Bile rises in my throat as I frantically being searching that case once more.
They don’t know who did it.
Whoever it was left, and they haven’t been able to find any leads.
A few weeks later, Chloe goes and gets her car repaired, repainted and fixed, and she was never the same when she returned to town. Did she do this? Was it her who hit Jeannie? Did she kill Colt’s sister? Pressing a hand to my heart, I close my eyes. Something must be wrong with this situation ... I must have my wires crossed. It doesn’t make sense. Chloe is the kindest human I’ve ever known; she would never just leave someone on the road to die.
She would have told someone.
Wouldn’t she?
Maybe not if she was afraid. Maybe not if Jeannie was already dead. She would have spent her life in prison, and that is probably something that would scare her more than anything in this world. A gentle soul like her would never survive a life behind bars, but would it be enough to make her run and never tell a single soul until she died? Is that truly the kind of secret she was keeping?
If so – who the hell knows about it?
She said in her letter she was being blackmailed, which means someone knew it was her. If someone knew, why wouldn’t they go to the police? What is it they wanted from her that they were willing to keep this secret? Even after she ran, they could have turned her in, so why didn’t they? What am I missing here? None of this makes sense. I have to be wrong about this.