Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I cup my hands around my mouth and yell. “Don’t worry! This is just their pre-attack ritual.”
“Pre-attack?” he questions nervously. “And what the hell does that mean?”
“It means when they get done with you, Bennett and I won’t have anything but each other to worry about.”
Bennett laughs, and it feels like a small breakthrough in the ball of tension we’ve both been wielding toward each other for years. I never cared that we didn’t particularly get along, but now that things with Breezy are the way they are, I don’t know…a civil relationship seems more important.
“You shut the hell up, Ted, and get these sheep away from me.”
I put a finger to my lips and whistle, and Crosby, Nash, Mackie, and Boris all peel off from the pack and head in my direction first.
“Bahhh! Sheep! Bahh!” Autumn cries excitedly, reaching down in an effort to pet them when they get close. I pull some feed from my pocket and toss it at the ground, and they all freeze up, heads down to get their fill.
“She can pet them,” I say to Bennett.
“Pet them?” Logan protests. “You just told me they were about to attack!”
I shrug. “Guess I lied.”
“Screw all this bullshit.” Exploding out of the circle of remaining sheep, Logan growls and storms over to his fancy Mercedes coupe, climbing inside and slamming the door. I expect him to start it up and pull away, but he reclines the seat instead, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Great. Guess he’s not leaving, then,” Bennett grumbles before sighing heavily.
“Well, don’t cry too hard. At least one of us is. And as a bonus, I’ll take the sheep with me.”
Bennett smirks and Autumn giggles, and for now, I take that as a sign of making strides.
Gone for now, but I’ll be back—just as soon as Breezy is too.
34
Breezy
Is this rock bottom?
I mean, that can be the only explanation for why I’m sitting in Norah’s SUV, clutching a plastic gas station bag like it contains nuclear codes instead of a pregnancy test.
“Everyone in that Stop and Go was looking at me,” I blurt, words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I know you said people in Molene wouldn’t recognize us, but I swear they did. My buying a pregnancy test is going to end up spreading all the way to Eileen’s lap and plastered across the front page of the damn Chronicle.”
Norah laughs, and I scowl. She glances my way briefly, the corners of her mouth still twitching as she steers the car down Josie’s long gravel driveway.
“I’m sorry,” she says, still smiling. “I’m not laughing at you, really. It’s just…the people in the Stop and Go were looking at you because you knocked down an entire tower of soup cans. Also, Eileen wouldn’t dare get her gossip from another town. That’s not her style. Plus, she hates Brandy Lockwood.”
“Who in the hell is Brandy Lockwood?”
“She runs the Molene Gazette. Basically, Eileen Martin 2.0.”
Once we’re in front of Clay and Josie’s house, Norah shifts into park and cuts the ignition. Her seat belt clicks free with a sharp snap that ricochets through my skull, and I instantly want to scream.
I can’t explain it—this anger that keeps boiling up or the ache that sits heavy behind my ribs. It’s like my emotions have staged a coup and I’m just the hostage.
“Well, then,” Norah ventures cautiously. “Shall we go inside?”
I nod instead of answering; gestures are all I’m capable of right now with these yo-yoing freaking emotions of mine.
“Right. Going inside, then.” She opens her door and climbs out gracefully, moving toward the house like someone untouched by chaos. Basically, the complete opposite of me—with my half-baked plans, nonexistent direction, and a potential life-altering surprise shaped like a tiny human with Tad Hanson’s eyes.
Norah lifts her dainty fingers to the door to knock while I drag my legs through metaphorical mud, and the stark contrast between the two of us has my anger renewing tenfold.
I seethe to myself, wrapping my fingers around the handles of the bag that contains the stupid test until they dig into the skin and turn it purple. It’s on the tip of my tongue to literally scream Josie’s house down like she’s one of the pigs and I’m a big bad, possibly pregnant wolf, but she opens the door before I get the chance, and the battle cry dies in my throat.
At the sight of her, I turn weepy.
Her hair is disheveled, her sweater oversized, and her eyes are sunken into the void of two deep, dark circles. Maybe it’s that she’s the embodiment of everything I’m feeling and then some—a freaking mess and a half and opposite of normal in every way—but one more swing of emotions and I’m going to launch myself right into outer space.
“You look like shit, sis. Are you okay?” Norah doesn’t beat around the bush to save feelings.