Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38978 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
It was time to go General Hannibal on these fucks.
I had keys in hand and was in my Aston Martin in less than ten minutes.
I made the trip in half the time; what the fuck was the point in having a sports car if you weren't going to utilize it? I parked a little ways down the street from my destination and walked. The street was deathly quiet as was to be expected at fuck me o'clock in the damn night. I reached the tree that would get me into the house and took a deep breath. My heart was like a runaway train in my fucking chest, and my hands were sweating. Punk ass. I worked the kinks out of my neck and started climbing; this wasn't my first time at the rodeo; I'd pulled this stunt before, but only then I was sure of my reception; this time, I had no fucking clue what awaited me at the end of this fuckery. I hoisted myself through the window, and the scent hit me. Fuck me, sensory overload, fucking strawberries, and vanilla. I was literally stopped in my tracks; how the fuck did I forget that? That was one of the things that first drew me to her; her fucking scent drove me insane. Hands in the front pockets of my jeans, I stood in the corner out of the view of the window; you never know what nosy ass neighbor had insomnia and was watching shit out their window; that's the last damn thing I needed.
There was more than enough light coming in through the window so I could see, and the first thing I noticed was the gauntness of her features; the second was the tear tracks on her cheeks. I bit my fist to keep the groan from escaping. She looked so small and helpless, nothing like the vibrant, vivacious girl of my dreams. I slid down the wall, hands clasped on my forehead, nose burning from holding back tears. I wanted so much to go to her, but I couldn’t, not yet, not without answers.
"Gage."
Fuck did she see me? My body tensed as I prepared to flee, but looking towards the bed, I saw that she was asleep still, and tears were once again rolling down her cheeks. Well, just fuck. She was calling for me in her dreams. That ought to mean something, right? I felt my own tears seeping from the corners of my eyes as I watched her beloved face, so ravaged, so pale. No wonder Jonas had lost his shit. She looked at death's door.
I spent the night sitting in that corner thinking and planning, going over and over in my head what was the best course of action. Everything was spinning out of control. Sitting here gazing at her, it all seemed so simple, so easy. I knew what dad was talking about that first day, the Maddox male legacy to love only once and love hard. As often as I had heard the stories, I don't remember once hearing about the woman cheating. Don't think about that shit now; you can't lose your fucking mind in her bedroom in the middle of the night; that'll just fuck shit up even worse. So I sat, and I watched, and I planned, and in that time, she called out for me three times, and each time I had to fight to stay in my corner. Soon little butterfly, man, I hope soon.
When the first rays of morning light filtered through, I got up to leave. I tried not to do it, but I couldn't help myself, so with the lightest touch, I kissed her brow, drawing in her warm scent before making my escape.
The ride home was long and tedious; I had so much on my fucking mind it was a wonder I could concentrate on driving. It was still too early for much traffic, so I had the roads to myself. Nothing but open road and cluttered thoughts to keep me company. One thing was for sure James was going to have to step his shit up; I didn't have the time I thought I did. If she was this fucked up now, I can't imagine what another couple of weeks would do to her. I tried to hold on to the anger I felt in the beginning, but the fire wasn't there, it hadn't been extinguished completely, but it was now tempered with reason and the look of desolation on a sleeping girl's face. She was breaking my fucking heart.
Mom was in the kitchen bustling around when I got home; the rest of the house seemed to be still asleep. I knew my loved ones would need to get back to their lives soon; they were only here to support me; dad had been going in for only a few hours a day, which for him was a monumental sacrifice. The man ate, slept, and drank medicine. Tiffany had left a buying trip in Europe to come home, Derrick could work from anywhere as long as he had an Internet connection, and Brian had been conferencing with the office over FaceTime or Skype or some such shit. I appreciated them all so much, but I had to get my shit together so everyone could get back to their lives.