Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119650 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“I don’t mean your arrest. Erica and Colby. When did you first learn that Colby and Erica were involved?”
“I learned it was Colby the same time everyone else did.”
“And Erica?”
“Only a few days ago.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
My eyes bug out of my head. “I did. The minute I knew what Colby had done, I came down here and spoke to both you and Orlando about it, and you acted like I was throwing an innocent man under the bus. As for Erica, I told her to hand herself in. That’s why Colby rammed his Charger into my Civic the other day. He was trying to ensure my silence, then after that, he tried to pull the same shit on Addison. He tore her breathing tube right out of her throat. You know me, Mom. You know I could never do something like that. Don’t you see? They’re setting me up for it. All the evidence they had was fabricated.”
Mom takes a step back from me, turning away and pressing her hands to her temples, and I listen as she takes slow, calming breaths. “I just don’t know what to do with you, Brielle. We came all the way back from Paris, cut our honeymoon short only for it to be thrown in our faces.”
I scoff. “After everything that happened to Addison, you have the nerve to make this all about you. Wow, Mom. You hit a new low today. You have a chance here to support your daughter, to stand by my side and help me clear my name, but instead, you can’t even look at me and are talking shit about cutting your honeymoon short. Who are you?”
She spins back around, jamming her fingers right into my chest. “Who am I?” she spits. “Who am I? I’m the woman they will stare at, whisper about, and bar from attending events because my daughter attacked one of their own. I will never be able to fit into this world, and I have you to thank for it.”
“YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO FIT INTO THIS WORLD,” I roar. “They’re already talking about you. You’re the joke of every conversation, the pitiful woman who can’t see through Orlando’s bullshit. Can’t you see how they laugh at you? You’re the town gold-digger and everybody knows it. That’s all on you,
Mom. You did that all by yourself.”
Her hand cracks against my face again, and I stumble back a step, tasting blood in my mouth. “How dare you,” my mother seethes. “After everything I’ve done for you.”
Anger burns through my veins as I launch myself at her, only to have a strong hand curl around my arm and yank me back. Jensen pushes in front of me, giving me a hard shove back as he stands between me and my mother. “Instead of tearing shreds off your daughter, don’t you think your time would be better spent trying to figure out how the hell you’re going to clear her name? Take it from someone who’s already been falsely accused of rape. Everything you want is going to slip right through your fingertips unless you start doing something about it. Every second you’re here trying to beat the shit out of your daughter, is another second someone is spreading another lie. So do yourself a favor, stepmother, and start figuring out how the hell this bullshit isn’t going to destroy another life.”
Mom glares at Jensen but seeing the fight leave her, he steps out from between us and moves deeper into the house. I wait for him to turn back, to give me some kind of weird stare suggesting I’m now in his debt, but it never comes, and before I can think on it longer, Mom’s fingers curl around my arm. She drags me through the house and into the formal dining room before yanking out a chair and shoving me into it.
“Right,” she says. “You will talk until I tell you to stop, not sparing a single detail, and only after that, will I decide what I’m going to do with you.”
I stare at her, the rage threatening to take control.
How can my own mother not have my back right now? She really has become a stranger.
“Now, Brielle,” she demands.
Curling my hands into balls on my lap, I spill every last detail, relaying the exact conversations and filling her in on everything I can possibly remember. By the time the sun is sinking in the sky and the formal dining room darkens, Orlando is stepping through to join his new bride.
“I take it things have calmed down in here?” he questions, looking at Mom as though he actually cares for her.
She shakes her head. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do,” she says, putting on her show. “It’s clear she is lying to me. I know she didn’t hurt that girl, but I just don’t believe her when she said she had nothing to do with this. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this. Perhaps she’s acting out because we’ve been moving so fast.”