Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
She’d come.
Thank fucking God.
I let myself go, unable to hold on any longer.
It was rough, raw, and everything I needed in that moment.
I sat up onto my knees, breath sawing in and out of my lungs.
She collapsed back onto the bed, and I pulled out of her.
She hissed.
“Son of a…”
I paused, cock just kissing her pussy. “What?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “You pulled out and it felt like…”
She looked down between us.
I did, too, expecting to see blood or something due to the roughness of our encounter.
But we got neither.
“What is that?” I found myself asking.
She licked her lips. “Pretty sure that’s my IUD.”
I squeezed her hips. “Shit.”
“What do we do?” I asked.
She plucked the IUD off my piercing and held it up to inspect it.
A drop of cum splashed onto her breasts.
I shouldn’t have found that hot, but I did.
“Guess we’ll worry about that later.”
“What about pregnancy?” I found myself asking.
She leaned forward and cupped my cheek with her clean hand.
“There’s nothing in this world I would be more proud of than carrying your baby,” she said. “But tomorrow, I’ll make an appointment in Bozeman. No offense, but I don’t want your friends placing an IUD in me.”
My lips quirked.
But fell just as quickly.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
She’d just rocked my world.
Twice.
And she was asking me if I was okay?
“I’m…going to make it,” I finally settled on.
She got up, walked to the bathroom, and cleaned up.
When she got back, I was still in the same place.
She had a wet rag in her hand that she used to clean my cock, then tossed it on the floor. “Lie down, Gentry. We have plenty of time to worry in the morning.”
Twenty-Six
You remind me of a penny. Two-faced and not worth much.
—Sage’s secret thoughts
Sage
It’d been three days, and a lot had happened.
A judge gave temporary custody of Dean to Gentry.
The judge denied Brooke and Nadine bail.
Nadine and Brooke both tried to contact someone in Arkansas. Whether that someone was Dario or not, we didn’t know.
Apollo hijacked both phone calls and redirected them to his own voicemail. Both voicemails said the same thing. “We need help. She’s here.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that ‘she’ was me.
They must’ve known enough about who I was to that family to know that they’d want to know where I was and any information they could provide.
Apollo was still working on who they’d called, but since it was a burner phone, it was taking him some time to get that information.
Work was, sadly, very crazy.
I hadn’t talked to Gentry much at all in the last week.
I saw him, sure.
But in the time that I’d been working, he’d gotten Dean registered at school. Taken him in to the police station to give his official statement—which sadly wasn’t much because the little boy was too scared to talk—and had several more cases thrown into his lap along with the missing little boys.
The man was busy.
But above all else, he was consistent.
He was there every day to pick Dean up from school—even though the boy had no idea that Gentry was related to him. He cooked him dinner every night.
And he asked for space.
Space that I’d provided for him without complaint.
Who we needed to think about right then was Dean.
He was the top priority.
And I wasn’t going to insert myself into their new reality until it was best to do so.
Hence why I was at a car dealership, trading in a car that I’d had for only a few months.
The man who sold me the car was smiling, but it was one of those fake smiles that were plastered on a man’s face when he was trying to placate an overreacting woman.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t take your trade,” he apologized.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because we won’t have any resale for it here.” He practically patted me on the head. “Those kinds of cars don’t do well in Montana.”
I nearly keeled over. “You were the one to sell me this car and tell me that it’d be perfectly fine in Montana. It was something I specifically asked you.”
A motorcycle roared up, and I turned to look behind me to see an older man with a hell of a beard coming to a stop by the window.
The salesman that had just told me he couldn’t take my car as trade left me like a hot potato.
I stiffened my spine and walked toward the man who was now helping the biker.
“…to buy a truck that will get me home. Needs to be able to pull…” the biker was saying.
I walked right into the middle of their conversation and said, “I would highly recommend that you don’t buy a single thing from this crooked dealership.”
The salesman stiffened. “Ma’am…”
“That man,” I ignored the salesman’s discomfort. “Sold me this car only a few months ago and told me that it would be great in Montana winter. Let me tell you something. It’s not. It’s awful. It’s a great car, but it’s not something that I can use here when it snows. It’s unsafe. And this man was the one that made me buy it.”