Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161394 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 807(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
And now I felt awful. They were being so understanding and supportive, and I was being a big fat liar.
Standing, Wyatt grabbed some firewood from the pile and tossed it into the pit. “Have you told your dad yet?”
I sighed. “No. I will. I just … I worry he won’t take it well. He doesn’t like change.”
“Your happiness is important to him, though.” Retaking his seat, Wyatt grabbed his beer from the table. “He’ll be pleased for you if he thinks Dane makes you happy.”
“Yes, but if some part of Simon feels threatened or off-balance by my having a man in my life, I might find myself dealing with Deacon.”
“I’ve never come face to face with Deacon—he doesn’t seem interested in talking with me or Melinda. But from the things you’ve told me about him, I don’t believe he would hurt you.”
“He might try to hurt Dane, though.” Deacon in a rage wasn’t pretty. I’d seen him lash out at people and knock them down flat. “Then Simon, Freddie, and Maggie would be upset.”
Melinda let out a long breath. “The situation breaks my heart, you know.”
I nodded. “Yeah, mine, too.”
“Does Dane know about it?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I’ll tell him at some point. It’s just such a hard situation to properly explain. And then questions will follow that won’t be fun to answer.”
Just then, the sound of a door shutting came from inside the house.
“Oh, that’s probably Heather and Junior,” said Melinda. “She called earlier to say she might visit.”
I kept my groan of annoyance to myself. I knew it pained Melinda and Wyatt that Heather and I didn’t see eye to eye. I wished, for their sake, that I could make it happen. But even if too much hadn’t gone on between us, Heather would never be interested in us having a sisterly relationship.
I’d never quite worked out why she hated me so much. Maybe it was simply that all her parents’ attention had been focused on her until I came along. I was the first child they’d fostered, and Heather had made me feel unwelcome from second one.
Okay, that was an understatement. She’d been an epic bitch who’d loved to sneakily bully and terrorize me.
She’d knocked me around, forced dog food in my mouth, bit me hard enough to mark, and pulled a knife on me several times. That wasn’t even the worst of it.
When Melinda and Wyatt finally learned of it all, they’d been both horrified and devastated. They’d also cracked down hard on Heather. Their punishments hadn’t been physical, but they’d been highly effective. The abuse had then stopped, but she’d continued with her bitchy ways.
Even now as an adult, Heather did petty and mean shit like flirt with my boyfriends, cause drama on my birthdays, or make belittling comments to me. She had a pathological need to feel superior to everyone else, particularly me.
Maybe she was just a fucking crank—I was pretty open to that theory. I mean, surely it wasn’t normal to get a perverse joy out of causing drama and destruction; it was like it made Heather feel powerful.
I knew Melinda and Wyatt blamed themselves and often wondered where they went wrong with her. I hated that. They were good people, and they deserved better.
Junior came rushing out onto the deck, smiling wide. “Grandma!”
“Hey, mister.” Melinda helped him climb onto her lap. “I’ve missed you.” She pressed several kisses to his face, making him chuckle.
I smiled. “Hi, kiddo.”
He gave me a shy wave, knowing better than to give me any affection in front of his mother—Heather didn’t like it. I’d hug him when she wasn’t looking.
He was always dressed in expensive designer clothes, much like Heather herself. In some ways, she treated him like a doll. An accessory, even. But at least she wasn’t cruel to him. She fed him and kept him clean, which was more than my mother had done for me.
Strolling onto the deck like it was a catwalk, Heather gave me a long look but said nothing. Turning to her mother, she flicked her glossy brown hair over her shoulder. “Mom, I was hoping you and Dad could watch Junior for me for a few hours. I have a date.”
“Of course we will,” replied Melinda.
“We love having our little guy with us,” added Wyatt.
It wasn’t nice that she dumped Junior on them so often, but it was better for the kid that he was around people who’d openly show him love. I’d never once seen Heather kiss or hug him.
“Tell me about this man you’re seeing,” Melinda said to her.
Heather’s red-painted lips curved. “I met him at a bar last week. His name’s Thad Drummond. He’s an attorney. Lives near the marina. You’d like him. I was originally going to meet up with him last night but, well … he had to rearrange.”