Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74670 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Trying to salvage this and his attempt to get me into a conversation that I knew I was lacking at, I added, “But maybe we could go to a bookstore. I like to read. And I’d like a new journal, if that’s okay.”
I’d not written in my notebook in several years. But with all that was happening, I wanted to get it out. I had no one to talk to. No close friend to share what was going on inside my head. It was why I had written to my mother for years. The letters became sporadic as I got older, but when I needed to spew the awfulness to another soul, I wrote it down. Shared it, believing that she could see it. That she heard me. It had gotten me through the darkest times.
Mal’s eyes lit up with hope and relief. “Absolutely,” he said. “I’ll take you to several bookstores. We have a few here in Madison, but there are bigger ones in Jacksonville if you prefer to go there.”
“One here is fine,” I told him.
“I asked Jayda for a list of places to take you shopping. I don’t know anything about girl clothing or necessities. She said she’d meet us in town if you’d like.”
Jayda reminded me of Luther. I missed her, but I was afraid of what seeing her right now would do to me. I had to get control of my emotions first. I’d let myself care too deeply, and maybe it was from the lack of love in my life, but I’d clung to him too tightly. Letting go wasn’t an easy process.
“I, uh…I’m sure you and I can get whatever I need.”
He smiled then, appearing pleased. It was so odd. This man—my father—wanted to spend time with me. He was trying to make me happy. I should be soaking it in. Getting all that I’d missed over the years. But the darkness that was a part of my soul wouldn’t release me so that I could. When I was with Luther, I could believe that I was safe. That Alpheus couldn’t get me. But without him, I was back to waiting for this to all come to a crashing halt.
I was afraid to hope. I was afraid to be happy. I was afraid that I was a curse.
A ding chimed, which I’d learned meant one of the entrances to the house had opened.
“I smell bacon!” Gathe’s voice called out.
Mal smirked and shook his head. “That kid is never full. He probably ate a full breakfast at his place already.”
Locke hadn’t been here since I had moved in two days ago, but Gathe had been here three times now. He was a slight distraction at times, and I was relieved by his arrival. I needed that. Perhaps he’d go shopping with us.
“A few pieces left,” Mal called out.
Gathe appeared in the doorway and beamed brightly at both of us. “You knew I was coming. Gee, thanks, Dad,” he drawled.
Mal rolled his eyes and took a drink of his coffee. “I’d have bolted the doors if I’d known.”
Gathe chuckled. “No, you wouldn’t have. Don’t lie. I know you wait anxiously for me to bless you with my presence.” He took all three slices of bacon and popped the end of one in his mouth before walking over to the table, holding the other two in his hand.
“Get a goddamn plate,” Mal scolded him.
He raised an eyebrow and looked at me, then back at him. “We using plates now? Is this new because there’s a female among us?”
Mal shot Gathe a look that only made him grin as he took a bite of the bacon and began chewing.
“Locke got back last night,” Gathe said, pulling a chair out and sitting down at the table.
“I know,” Mal replied tightly, as if this was something Gathe shouldn’t be talking about. “I’m taking Lace out shopping today. But this evening, I’d like you and Locke here for dinner.”
Gathe’s gaze swung to mine. “What, like a family dinner with the new sis?” He wagged his eyebrows at me.
“Yes, I’d like us to have a weekly family dinner.”
That got Gathe’s attention back on him. “Really? Will you be hiring a cook, or are you gonna be cooking these meals? Because I’m placing my vote now for carryout if you’re not finally getting another cook.”
Mal shrugged. “Eh, I think I might get a cook. Haven’t had one since you moved out.”
Gathe took another bite. “Thank fuck.”
I tried to keep a pleasant expression on my face, but the more they talked about food, the more my anxiety crept in. I didn’t want him to get a cook for me. Then I’d feel pressured to eat. I wasn’t ready to eat every meal. I knew this was probably something I should see a therapist over, but I wasn’t asking for one of those. It made me seem mental. And…that was my worst fear. That it was waiting there to steal me, like it had Dalia.