Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“You’d think.”
“Have you heard anything from One about his snooping friends?”
Whenever we were around Tabitha and didn’t want her to know that we were talking about her boys, we’d reference them by number. And of course, since Sergei was the oldest, we called him One. Tabitha was a smart girl, and I had no doubt that she’d eventually figure out what we were up to. But for now, she hadn’t caught on.
Preacher glanced over in her direction, with a look that let me know this wasn’t the time as he said, “No. But I’m hoping he’ll have something for me by the time we get back this afternoon.”
“Be sure to fill me in.”
“You know I will.”
Before he had a chance to say anything more, Devin walked over and stood next to me with a smile. I slipped my arm around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Ready for this?”
She looked up at me, that spark in her eyes I loved and nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Then, let’s ride.”
And just like that, the day felt like it was ours for the taking.
16
DEVIN
Mondays were the worst, especially when you have summer school.
I hadn’t planned on doing any summer classes, but the pay was good, and I couldn’t afford to turn them down. But now, I was stuck trying to get a room full of half-asleep college kids to care about procedure and reports.
It was going to be tough, but someone had to do it.
It was just before seven when I forced myself out of bed and dragged myself to the shower. I’d just gotten out and had wrapped a towel around me when I heard my phone chime with a message. Thinking it might be Jameson, I rushed into the bedroom. My hair was dripping down my back, and the chill from the water brought goosebumps as I reached for my phone.
A smile was tugging at my lips as I glanced down at the screen, but that smile immediately vanished when I saw that the message was from Brian. Rage washed over me when I read:
Brian:
You told them about Brooklyn.
Real classy, Devin.
Me:
I didn’t tell them anything, Brian.
It had been weeks since my conversation with Austin, so I had no idea where this was coming from. But when those three dots appeared on the screen, I knew he was about to lay into me. Damn.
Brian:
Bullshit. They would’ve never known if you hadn’t told them.
Now they don’t want to come over this weekend.
You’re poisoning them against me.
Me:
You know what’s funny? For MONTHS, you let them think I left you for no reason. That I was the villain. That I broke up the family for my own selfish reasons. And I never said a damn word about you and your girlfriend. I took the blame. I let them be mad at me, so they didn’t have to see you for what you really are.
Brian:
Don’t act like you’re some fucking martyr, Devin. You left. You broke this family. That’s on you. You had no right telling them about us.
I suddenly feel like the towel is strangling me. I yank it tighter, ignoring the drip of water down my legs as I sit down on the edge of the bed and type my response.
Me:
I hate to break it to you, but it wasn’t me.
It was you! They overheard you two talking. And when Austin asked me about it, I tried to make light of it. I even told him you had every right to be happy.
Brian:
You just love playing the victim, don’t you? It’s always the same with you.
You’re so self-righteous.
Me:
Says the man who moved his girlfriend in before the ink on the divorce was dry.
Brian:
Wouldn’t have had to move her in if you’d tried a little and stuck around.
Me:
While you banged your new girlfriend. Seriously?
And you told the kids I was the confused and unstable one. Priceless.
Brian:
You’re pathetic.
Me:
And yet you’re the one texting me at 7 in the morning trying to control what I say in my own house.
Brian:
You’re not getting away with this, Devin. You can count on that.
Me:
Don’t text me again, Brian. I’m done talking about the choices you made.
I hit send before I could think about what I was doing.
Before the guilt could sink in, I tossed my phone onto the bed and went back to the bathroom to dry off and get dressed.
I should’ve never read that first message. It was too early. I should’ve known that it was going to be something ridiculous, but I never would’ve imagined that he would go off the deep end like he did.
But he always has a way of surprising me, and never in a good way.
His words still lingered in my mind:
You did this. You left. You broke this family. That’s on you.
You’re pathetic.
He’d called me pathetic many times before. I could almost hear him saying it. It was like he didn’t know that I hadn’t spent years swallowing every betrayal, every lie, and every long night he didn’t come home. He knew I’d done it to keep the peace, and he knew, deep down, I simply didn’t care what he did. And that made me the villain.