Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Baker’s head whipped in my direction. “What?”
“You’re more than welcome to stay,” I said. “Or we can get you an apartment on the same floor as me. Reign’s either going to be in jail or a psych ward and will be moving out pretty soon.”
Because I was going to kick her ass out to make sure that I could keep Baker close.
Though, I would’ve kicked her out anyway just because she’s a fuckin’ nut job, and I was tired of her leading the people in my life around by their noses.
“I don’t know…” Baker said.
“Just do it for a bit,” Shad said. “We can reevaluate in a few weeks, get you lookin’ at places to stay again.” He hesitated. “You’re not going back to Decatur, though. You’re stayin’ in Dallas.”
Baker wrinkled her nose. “I can’t afford Dallas.”
“You can if I give you a raise.” Shad held up his hand before she could protest. “Yes, I’m more than aware you can do it yourself, but I’m seriously underpaying you, and you know it. At first, it was to get us on our feet, and you didn’t need the money because that was the one thing Joey could do—provide for you. But we’re back on our feet now. You don’t have to sacrifice your pay because of me. And your mother should’ve upped it a long time ago, but she wasn’t thinkin’ about anything else but the business. I’m thinking about my girl now.”
After a little bit more back and forth, the two hugged, and Shad left.
When we were standing out on the sidewalk in front of Castanon Industries, she waited until he was fully into traffic before she said, “The moment you have an issue with Holt and me being there, I want you to promise me you’ll tell me. And we’ll leave.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, but she held up her hand and said, “Seriously. That’s the only way I’ll stay.”
And because I was a complete dumbass, I agreed.
I wish I hadn’t.
Maybe when the shit hit the fan for me a few months later, she wouldn’t have left without a word, leaving my crushed heart behind.
Eleven
I might have to call in thicc today.
—Text from Baker to Copper
BAKER
Two months later
Copper was the best roommate in the world.
Seriously, he was so caring and good-natured that I fell into a false sense of security.
At first, I didn’t think that I was hurting him in any way.
I thought he was more than okay with Holt and me squatting in his life.
For two months straight, I’d worked on me.
I got healthy, changed my life, and finally started bonding with my son the way it was always supposed to be.
The medication I was on helped so immensely that I finally saw through a set of eyes that weren’t plagued by dark thoughts, recriminations, and dread.
No longer did I cry when Holt cried.
No longer did I feel like jumping off the nearest bridge every time I thought about having to take care of him for the rest of my life.
No longer did I refuse to eat because eating sounded awful, and took too much energy, and what was even the point of eating when I didn’t want to be on this planet anyway?
I’d gained back some of the weight that I’d lost since Holt’s birth. I hadn’t realized that I had lost quite so much.
All because of Copper’s cooking.
Every night when we got home from his office, he would start dinner, and I would start Holt’s nighttime routine.
Copper had put the routine in place originally, and I held steady, making sure that Holt never deviated from it.
He was fed and promptly in bed by seven in the evening, just in time for Copper to put the food on the table once I’d rocked Holt to sleep.
I finally felt good in my skin to the point where I was dressing like I used to dress—cutoff shorts, tank top, and flip-flops.
I did my hair every day.
I wore makeup.
I got enough sleep, because the man I was living with was truly that great of a guy that he would do the night shift if he sensed I needed a break—something I hadn’t needed as of late because Holt was not only sleeping through the night, but he was sleeping well into the morning.
I was even considering talking to my family again—something that I thought I’d never do again because of how dark everything felt in the aftermath.
I was…happy.
I was also very aware of the man that had given my life back to me.
Today was no different.
We were at Copper’s club’s clubhouse—the Truth Tellers MC really knew how to make a fantastic hangout—and I was admiring the walls of the barndominium.
They were made of wood.
Seriously, from the outside this place looked like a random metal building in the middle of nowhere, but when you came inside, it looked like a lodge in the middle of Montana.