Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
“I won’t. I need to know what’s going on. Why are you back? And why the hell are you trying to poison yourself?”
Lightning spears the sky and thunder rips a second later.
Ethan stays silent, his chest rising and falling like he’s just finished a long run.
“You won’t understand. You can’t,” he answers finally, as decisive as slamming a door in my face. Again. “You’ve always known who you are. A woman who gets to live with most of her drama confined to the fucking pages where it belongs.”
Until now, I want to say. Until you.
“I like the drama,” I whisper. “It’s boring if you only live a life where books have all the action.”
Ethan doesn’t seem to hear me, raking a hand through his hair in a desperate gesture that makes my stomach flip and my heart squeeze.
“I’m sorry. Sorry as hell I ever let that lying old goat inject more drama than you needed.”
What?
My heart pounds, slamming my ribs and sending tremors into my fingers. “What are you talking about? Who do you mean?”
He throws me a disdainful glance that tells me I should already know. “Who do you think?”
Leonidas.
I just don’t know how or why.
And the confusion, the sensation of everything turning upside down, sends this weird stabbing pain through me.
Leonidas was a good man—I think.
I bite back against the rush of denial.
Whatever happened, Ethan clearly feels betrayed.
He glares at me now, still angry I’m up in his business and keeping him from knocking himself out with booze even though he’s the one who put me on the counter.
The paper towels are almost soaked through.
“What did he do?” I ask softly. Thunder vibrates the room again.
Upstairs, Ares lets out a deep howl, calling to the storm because I know they don’t scare him that much.
For a second, Ethan laughs bitterly, shaking his head.
His eyes are the darkest circles I’ve ever seen.
“This is ridiculous. All of it. Go pack your shit,” he tells me.
It takes a second to sink in, and it cuts me to the bone.
We’re in the eye of the storm, I think, everything oddly quiet now except the soft rain and the sound of his voice.
“When you told me to leave… you meant leave-leave? Um, no. You don’t get to do this.” My voice quivers. “You don’t drag yourself in, get stinking drunk, and end it just like that.”
“Wait until the storm’s over, then. Whatever. I’ll be gone, if that’s easier.” His eyes are wild, almost glowing in the light. “Hattie, I’m fucking gone!”
His words punch a hole through me.
I shake my head, fighting back scalding tears even though they’re pushing into my nose. “You can’t. Your inheritance—”
“Fuck it all to hell! I don’t care anymore, woman.” He bares his teeth, breathing harshly. “That was a sick game Gramps played. One more game in a whole life of them. It’s over now. I don’t give a fuck whether I inherit his fortune or one wheat penny. I’m done.”
For the first time tonight, I’m scared.
“What? No,” I say again, numbly, still shaking my head. “You don’t mean that. You can’t—”
“Don’t tell me what I mean—and don’t worry.” His voice gentles. “You still get your money and your little store. I’m not screwing anyone over. I’m not a complete asshole.”
“It’s cute that you think that,” I spit.
His eyes flash with surprise.
But my anger, my hurt are unleashed.
Until now, I’d pushed them down because I figured Ethan needed some kind of calm, some time to regain his senses, but this is too far.
“Are you being serious? How much did you drink before you came home on the plane?” I search his eyes.
They glitter with irritation, too many blue fires to count.
“You sure you want to pick a fight right now?”
“Why not? Why the hell not, Ethan? If you’re going to end things on a whim because you’re mad at your grandpa and you won’t tell me why?”
“Don’t.” Jaw tight, nostrils flared, he narrows his eyes. “Don’t go there.”
“I have to.” I’m so mad I’m not hearing the words leaving my mouth.
My biggest fears are coming true. That’s all I know.
Everything I stressed about.
Everything I tried to believe was irrational, coming out to play.
“I don’t know what happened to you,” I tell him, “but what gives you the right to take it out on me?”
“I warned you. I told you to leave several times.”
“And Margot warned me about you. She said you back out the second things get real. And maybe I’m projecting, but that doesn’t give you the right to crumple me up and throw me away like a dirty tissue.”
“This conversation is over.” He shakes his head, striding to the door.
“No, it’s not. Ethan!” I hop down and chase after him. “You know what you could have done tonight? You could have been an adult and talked to me.”