Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
The microphone is ripped away before I can finalize my threat, and I am ushered off stage by a big, burly bouncer who has no clue I’m more deadly than my pregnant state announces.
A handful of guests applaud my stance, though not everyone is so supportive. My parents glare at me, their expressions a mix of shock and condemnation.
Their disapproval grows when their eyes lower to my baby bump.
“Macy.” My mother’s voice is cold and distant, even with her arms spread like she’s welcoming me home with open arms. “What are you doing here?”
I stare at her in bewilderment. “I’m here to support the cause as I have every event since Kendall’s abduction, like almost everyone else in this room.”
My father’s eyes narrow into thin slits, his expression hard. “You shouldn’t be here in your condition. It’s inappropriate. If I had known you were... that… I wouldn’t have accepted your offer to be a guest speaker.”
Anger rises inside me, but I force myself to stay calm. “I have every right to be here.” It isn’t a mission I win when I shout, “This is important to me.” My words are loud and ruckus-inspiring, hinting at the fury flooding my veins.
Anger flashes through my mother’s eyes. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself. You need to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” I roll my shoulders and straighten my spine, refusing to back down. “I’m not here for you. I am here to support Kendall and the many other women like her who were forced from their homes and made to do terrible, horrible things.”
“We don’t know that she’s been forced to do anything. She could be dead, for all we know.”
I slap the words straight out of my mother’s mouth, but my second strike misses its target when an arm wraps around my waist, and I’m forcefully walked toward the closest exit.
“You did what you came here to do.” Grayson grunts when my fight to get out of his hold sees my legs and arms colliding with his tuxedo-clad body. The slap felt good, but I’m still furious, so I need at least another round. Perhaps even three. “Now it is time to walk away.”
Though he’s right, I’m as stubborn as a mule, and this stance has been years in the making.
I may not be able to get out of Grayson’s firm grip, but his impressive strength can do little to stop my vicious tongue. “I’m pregnant, Dad. What you called a that is your grandchild.”
Shock morphs onto my parents’ faces. My gall has surprised them. They expect me to be the good, obedient daughter, but I’ve changed. I found my strength, and I refuse to let them take it away from me again.
“And if you want any chance of being a part of his or her life, I suggest you remember that before you ever contact me again.”
The vibrations of the car’s engine are a soothing backdrop as we drive down the almost isolated freeway. The GPS states that we’ve only reached the one-eighth point on our trip from San Francisco to San Diego, and the miles stretch on endlessly.
I glance at Grayson, who is focused on the road, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel in sync with the beat of a classic song belting out of the radio. Though the tension from the gala still lingers, the open road brings a sense of calm.
I’ve spent the past hour processing everything that has happened so far this week. I could blame my rollercoaster moods on unfamiliar hormones, but that would be a weak excuse.
I want nothing to take away from this glorious victory. Challenging my parents’ authority was among the hardest things I’ve done. However, it ultimately proved to be an empowering experience. I am in control of my life, and the strength it inspires is addictive. The weight of their expectations was a constant burden, and at long last, I can secure an entire breath.
Upon noticing my gawk, Grayson breaks the silence that has been hanging heavily between us for the past hour. “You were right.” When I look at him as if to say, Which part? he smirks. “About calling your baby a that. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
His apology shocks me. I didn’t flinch when he called my baby a that. It didn’t hurt coming from him. But it burned like a thousand tasers when my father said it.
When I tell Grayson that, he halfheartedly shrugs. “That’s because he’s family. He’s meant to have your back.” After a quick scrub of his hairless chin, he reveals the cause of his anguish. “But I’m meant to be your family too, Mace, and I shouldn’t have forgotten that, no matter how shocked I was.”
The bureau often says that the agents are family and we’re all in this together, but this feels different. He’s not speaking on behalf of the bureau. He is talking about him and me. Us. The emotions in his tone announce this, not to mention the guilt clouding his usually bright eyes.