Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“My home!” I cry, looking around as everything starts to blaze around me. I run back into my bedroom, grab a bag, and shove as much as possible into it before running back out. When I get outside the building, I see the man must have gone in, grabbed as much as he could, and dropped it in a pile on the grass. I can hear the fire engines coming as I stand there and watch my apartment burn.
Burn up in fucking flames.
Everything I just bought. Everything I own…
Gone.
“I saw a man running off just before I smelled the smoke,” the older gentleman says as he sits beside me.
The firefighters are here now, and everything I have left—a bag and a few other items the man managed to grab—sits in front of me.
I should be crying.
Like, what the fuck is this life?
How unlucky does someone have to be to have this happen to them?
My head falls into my hands as I listen to my neighbor talk about the man who ran off.
“Sandy-blond hair, swearing something about marriage. He ran when I called out to him.”
Deven.
It was for sure Deven.
Pulling out my cell, I press call on the last number he called from.
The dickhead answers, “I see you got my surprise.”
“Are you for real? Did you really just do that?” I ask in disbelief, pulling the cell away from my ear. “Have you lost some brain cells, Deven?”
“No, but it seems you have. Move back in with me, Lilith. Move back, or I’ll take it further. Maybe next time I’ll pay your Auntie a visit… while she sleeps.”
“Deven, you need help.”
“This is the type of man you wanted, isn’t it? A dangerous one?”
“Dangerous, not fucking deranged.”
“You’ll regret the day you left me, Lil. I’ll make you pay for the rest of your life.”
I hang up as I sit here, watching my home burn. I have no car, no fucking place to live, and hardly anything to my name. Deven has lost his fucking mind; it’s been over a year, and he’s been with other women, has a baby, and still can’t leave me alone. Just another man thinking they can fracture me and manipulate me. Fuckhead.
“Miss, are you okay?” my neighbor asks.
“I’m sorry. Sorry for not saying thank you,” I tell him. I’ve watched him before. What I wouldn’t give to go back and just watch others. I’ve seen him get out of his car as he carries his groceries into his apartment every other day. He uses the same bag each time.
“It’s fine. I just hope you’re okay,” he says, and I give him a forced smile.
He rises to his feet as someone else comes over and starts talking to him.
Grabbing my phone again, I press call on Reon’s number, and he answers right away, “Wife.”
“So, I have no apartment now,” I tell him.
I hear shuffling before he speaks again, “What do you mean?”
“I have no. Fucking. Apartment. How much clearer do I have to be? I wonder if my life went to shit because I met you,” I snap, then hang up on him.
I watch as the firemen put out the fire, and then as they all stand around talking to one another. At one point, they ask me if they need to call anyone for me. I shake my head, and they leave me alone.
So, now, I sit here as they leave.
I sit here and wonder if it’s all Reon’s fault. Is he bad juju for me? Surely, he must be. It’s payback for everything I’ve done wrong. For that one fucked-up night when I stole a knife from a man’s stomach and kept it. For my father, who is in prison for killing a man, and my wish that he’d never been caught.
It’s my bad luck.
And now I want to kill my ex-husband.
I hear the rev of an engine, but don’t bother raising my head as I hear a door swing open. The sound of boots approaching reaches me, but again, I don’t bother looking up as they get near. That is, until hands are touching me, seeing if I am okay. When I finally look up, I see his eyes, wild and dark, searching me to make sure I’m fine before he finally speaks.
“Is this everything?” Reon asks, his hands dropping from my body when he can’t see anything physical. I nod as he picks up my bags. I just sit here as he carries my belongings to his car.
“Let’s eat before we hunt,” he says, standing before me and offering me his hand. My stomach fizzes with excitement, and my pulse flutters widely as I stare at that hand for a few moments and wonder what happens if I don’t take it.
Which way might my life go?
Fuck it.
It’s already a shit show. How much worse can it really get?