Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83070 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Aurora sits back in her seat, mouth agape.
“I might have taken your shit up until now, but it’s over,” I say, pushing my chair back.
“Oh, you’ll be back,” he says, sneering. “You always come back.”
“I have always come back because I didn’t know I deserved more. You see, I didn’t have a father to teach me that.”
Rochelle covers her mouth and grabs Gabe’s hand.
“Want me to go with you? If you need me to go with you, I’ll go with you.”
Gannon’s words trickle through my mind, providing me with a bit of refuge from this storm. He’s the best man I’ve ever met. Kind, genuine, thoughtful, caring. The opposite of Kent in every way.
“But, lucky for me, I found someone who has showed me that I deserve respect. Love. Time. Attention.” I stand, my voice shaky. “And that someone didn’t want me to come here alone tonight, and he’ll be the one to pick up the pieces when I go home.” Tears stream down my cheeks. “He taught me everything I know about what a man should be. And that certainly isn’t you.”
Dad laughs angrily. “Men lie to you.”
I smile. “The only man who has ever lied to me told a six-year-old little girl he’d pick her up to celebrate her birthday.” I choke back a sob. “And I’ll never forgive you for that.”
“Carys …” Aurora looks up at me, her lip quivering. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you for the invitation tonight, but I have to go,” I say, standing tall, blinking back tears. “Happy birthday, Kent.”
My steps are measured as I leave the restaurant, but they turn into a full run as I hit the parking lot. Tears pour down my face as I lock myself inside the Gremlin. Snot touches my lip as I pull onto the road.
I start to turn toward Gannon’s but remember he’s not home. So I take the exit to my house instead.
My phone rings from my purse, and I use one hand to dig it out. His name is printed on the screen. It causes my tears to flow harder.
I hiccup a sob before I can speak.
“What’s wrong?” he says before I have a chance to get a word out.
“I’m heading home.”
“What happened?” His voice is gruff. “Can you please excuse me? I’ll be right back.” A door squeaks in the background. “What the hell is going on, Carys?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re crying.”
“I’m fine.”
The pause is long and tense, and I can feel his intensity through the line. “What did that motherfucker do to you?”
He told me the truth.
“You walked around with a fakeness you learned from your goddamn mother. Always pretending to give a fuck. But let’s be honest, you don’t give a shit about me.”
I swallow hard, his words echoing through my heart.
He’s right, actually. I don’t give a shit about him. Not anymore. Gannon has showed me that what Kent and I have isn’t a relationship. It’s not a relationship if it’s one-sided. Not if the other person is cutting you down in front of his family and friends. If you feel worse walking away from them. If they make you question your motivations and sanity.
I don’t give a shit about Kent Johnson because he’s nothing to me. He’s nothing to me at all.
“Really, in a way …” I smile through the tears. “He set me free.”
“I’ll call security and tell them you’re on the way.”
“No, Gannon. I’m going home. My home.”
He gets quiet again. “Are you okay to drive?”
“Yes.”
“Then drive safe.”
“I will.”
The line disconnects and I try to focus on the road as my father’s words swirl in my mind. He did this to me on repeat throughout my life and I kept going back for more. I guess sometimes you have to learn things for yourself, and I certainly have tonight.
“Protect your peace, Carys.”
I smile sadly. “I am, Mom. I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Gannon
“Hello?”
I recheck my mirrors. “Hey, Nick. It’s Gannon Brewer.”
“Hey, Gannon,” he says. “What can I do for you?”
“Kent Johnson. Daughter named Carys. He lives in Nashville now. Wife’s name is Aurora.”
“Okay.” A keyboard clatters in the background. “What do you need?”
“I want to know everything about him.”
“There are levels of everything.”
My teeth grind together. “I want to know what color his shit was this morning, Nick.”
“Got it. Timeline?”
“Yesterday.”
“I’ll call you back.”
I end the call and sigh. She should’ve been home by now.
My mind launches into a hundred what-if scenarios, ranging from a simple change in plans to a situation where that fucking car stops in the middle of the road, and someone plows into her from behind and hurts her.
I’m going to lose my mind.
I climb out of my SUV, clutching my phone in case she calls, and then pace the length of her porch. Time crawls. The sound of every car makes me jump. But the squeal of the Gremlin is like no other, and my heart races when I hear it before it comes around the corner.