Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Take a breath,” he says calmly, and I breathe in with him, then let it out slowly. “Good girl.”
Normally, that would make me bite my lip, but right now, I want to throw up.
“I hate her,” I whisper and turn to stare out the window. “And I hate that I hate her.”
“You’re safe, Ivy.” He kisses my hand. “Hey, look at me.”
I turn my gaze to him, and he takes his eyes off the road long enough to look into my eyes. God, he’s handsome.
He’s in a black T-shirt with a black flannel thrown on over it and the sleeves rolled on his forearms, and denim that molds over his thighs and ass. His hair is a little messy from my fingers earlier, and he has some stubble on his face because he hasn’t shaved in a few days.
And I now know firsthand what that stubble feels like between my thighs, and it’s holy shit.
But more than all that, he looks so sure of himself. So positive that he can protect me against my own mother.
And that’s the saddest part of all. That I need protection from her.
“I promise, baby, we’ll be okay.”
I nod and offer him a half smile. “Okay. Thank you for coming with me.”
“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”
He pulls up to the curb in front of my house, right behind a Silver Springs police car, and Easton steps out of the driver’s seat and meets us on the sidewalk.
“I need to apologize,” I say to both men. “For what we’re about to walk in on. I don’t know for sure what it’ll look like, but I know it won’t be good.”
Xander scowls and wraps his arm around my shoulders, and Easton narrows his eyes on the movement but then shakes his head.
“We’ve got this, Ivy. Trust me, I’ve seen a lot of shit, and you have nothing to be embarrassed of.”
“Oh, I do. Plenty, in fact, but let’s do this and get her the hell out of my house.”
Easton nods, and I lead the three of us up the walkway to the porch, and when I go to push inside, the door’s locked.
I pull my key out of my purse and push it in the lock, but it doesn’t work.
“She changed the fucking locks,” I murmur, and turn to stare at the guys. “SHE CHANGED THE FUCKING LOCKS.”
“We’ll bust the door in,” Xander says.
“First, let’s knock,” Easton suggests, and raps his knuckles on the wood. “Open up, Brenda. This is the Silver Springs PD.”
“Fuck off,” she calls from inside.
Jesus Christ.
“Now we bust the door in,” Easton says with a nod.
“Wait, I’ll try the back door,” I say, and they follow me around the side of the house. I use my key in the door off the kitchen, and it works. “She didn’t think to change this one.”
I march right through to the living room and pull up short.
Oh God.
I take a step back, right into Xander’s chest, and his hands come up to my shoulders, steadying me.
“Your three days are up,” I say, sounding way more normal than I feel right now.
My house.
My sweet, cute, amazing little house.
“My house now,” Mom says with a shrug. She’s sitting on the couch, in the same clothes she was in when we left her three days ago. There are piles of cigarette butts, put out on my paintings that she laid out and used as ashtrays.
The other paintings against the walls are covered in what looks like ketchup and mustard that she sprayed all over them, ruining every single one.
She took a knife to my couch, cutting open the cushions and pulling out the stuffing. My blankets are balled up in a corner of the room, and it smells like she pissed on them.
She pissed on my things.
“Jesus,” Xander mutters, and his hands tighten on me. I can feel the anger radiating through him.
“Get the fuck out of my house.” I sound so damn angry and disappointed and sad, and Mom’s face transforms as she starts to laugh.
“You can’t kick me out. I got squatter’s rights.”
“No, you don’t,” Easton says. “You don’t have any rights here, and now I can charge you with destruction of property as well as trespassing. Let’s go.”
“No.”
She simply sits there, as if she thinks she can just refuse and we’ll leave.
Easton calls for backup, but she just laughs again.
“She’s crazy,” I whisper.
“You have two choices,” Xander begins as he gently sets me aside and steps in front of me. “Ivy can press all the charges available and you can go to jail. Or, you can go to the rehab facility that already has you enrolled and will be paid for as soon as you arrive in Great Falls. If you choose jail, you’ll serve your time and get nothing when you get out. If you choose rehab, you’ll get enough money to rent an apartment and start over. Either way, you never come back to Silver Springs.”