Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
As she looked up at me, her eyes were wide and afraid. I also saw the exact moment when she realized the person she trusted the most at the moment wasn’t the person she should trust, but someone she barely knew.
“I will,” she said. But her thumb didn’t move.
I took the phone from her hand. Opened her contacts and added my number before handing it back. “That’s me, Juniper. Day or night. If he so much as parks on your street, you call. Understand?”
She nodded. The phone went back into her pocket. Still buzzing. She ignored it. I probably should have blocked the motherfucker while I had it, but I didn’t have that right. And I fucking hated I didn’t.
I walked her to the driver’s door. She opened it and slid behind the wheel. The interior smelled like lavender and vanilla from the vent clip. A stuffed dinosaur hung from the rearview mirror and I grimaced. Twenty-one or not, Juniper was way the fuck too young for me in both age and experience. That fact and that alone made me back off when every instinct I had screamed at me to interfere and protect her.
I stood beside the car while she sat there with the key in the ignition. When she didn’t turn it, I leaned in slowly so I didn’t spook her. “You gonna be OK, birthday girl?” I asked.
She looked at me through the open window. The morning light caught the copper in her hair and the steel in her eyes. I could see she was scared, but being scared wasn’t the same thing as being beaten. This woman refused to surrender without a fight.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Thank you. For everything, Jonah Sherman. I truly mean that. I hope I see you again.”
I pointed to the phone sitting in the cupholder next to her. “Day or night, honey. I’ll come for you. No questions asked. You need anything at all. I’m here. You get me?”
She nodded. Turned the key. The engine caught. I stepped back from the door, and she pulled it closed. The window stayed down. Her hands settled on the wheel.
I walked to the gate. The prospect there saw me coming and hit the button. The chain-link rolled back on its track, gravel crunching under the wheels.
She put the car in reverse. Backed away from my bike. Then the sedan rolled forward, slowly at first, then gathering speed as she reached the open gate. The morning sun hit the rear windshield and turned it gold. Her taillights flashed once as she tapped the brake at the threshold. Then she was through. The car turned onto the main road. The engine sound faded.
I stood there and watched her taillights disappear around the bend. The morning was full and bright. Somewhere in the distance, a car horn honked. I turned and walked back toward the building. I’d wait for the call. I knew it would come. Because men like Brett didn’t know how to walk away.
Chapter Five
Juniper
The stupid clearance cake stared at me from the counter when I walked in, the red piping smeared a little at the edges where the gel icing bled onto the white after sitting there too long. I picked it up by the plastic dome and dropped the whole thing into the trash with a thud. The sound echoed in my empty kitchen.
Brett’s things had colonized every flat surface like he’d been planning to stay forever. His gym bag sat haphazard in the hallway where he’d tossed it last time he used it. His shaving cream on the bathroom counter and the stack of real estate magazines beside the toilet all went in the trash. I started in the bedroom and worked my way out, dumping everything I found into a cardboard box I’d swiped from behind the bakery. His clothes smelled like the expensive cologne he favored.
My phone buzzed from inside my purse. Brett’s name lit up the screen. Then a text. Then another. I set the phone face-down on the coffee table and kept working. The messages piled up, the vibration making the table hum.
By midnight, I had three boxes stacked by the front door, along with a couple of garbage bags filled with his shit, and a kitchen that felt like mine again. I’d scrubbed the counters with bleach until my hands stung. The smell burned clean through the apartment, wiping out every trace of him. I slept with the window open and the blankets pulled to my chin.
When the alarm went off at three-thirty I’d only managed a couple hours of light dozing. By four, apron on, ovens preheating, I set about the familiar rhythm of my work. Sure, I was way earlier than normal, but sleep was a lost cause, so I figured I’d get a jump on things. First cake order was for a baby shower on Saturday. Pink and white, two tiers, buttercream roses. Simple. I could do simple with my eyes closed and my brain turned off, which was exactly what I needed.