Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
“Nothing,” I say uncertainly.
Tor turns and looks my mom dead in the eyes. “Where’s her important paperwork? Birth certificate, social security card, stuff she needs?”
“Um…” She’s flustered, her gaze darting from him to me. “I-I keep that stuff in the cabinet.”
“Go get them,” he says, clearly enunciating each letter.
Her eyes widen. “I don’t know what she told you, but—”
Tor cuts her off, using every inch of his height to take a step forward and tower over her. “If you ever lay a hand on her again, I’ll cut the goddamn thing off.”
I’m struck completely speechless as my mom looks up at him, wide-eyed and tongue-tied as well.
A guy who called me every conceivable terrible name in high school stops in front of me with an empty box. “Where should we start?”
“Um… the bedroom?” I point at the door, and he nods, heading inside to start packing up my belongings.
We do not have a large house, so we don’t really have room for all these bulky athletes. They fill the space, and the presence of so many strangers silences my mom. It’s one thing to go off on me when we’re alone with no witnesses, but she would never behave that way in front of an audience like this.
Knowing she has no other play, my mother starts crying, but nobody pays her any attention.
Tor takes my important paperwork from her, then heads into my bedroom.
I follow him.
“Everything in here yours?” he asks.
“Yeah. Everything but the dresser. The stuff inside is mine, but the dresser itself… she probably wants to keep.”
“Pack it all up,” he tells the guys. Glancing at me, he grabs a box. “Anything you want to take in the bathroom or anywhere else? I want to grab everything tonight so we don’t have to come back here.”
“I just took a shower, so I have some clothes in the bathroom. Probably a few other things, toiletries and…” I look up at him. “How did you know she hit me?”
He places a hand on my waist and backs me out of the small bedroom so his friends can get inside to pack, then he says evasively, “We’ll talk about it later.”
CHAPTER 23
CASSIE
It takes the guys less than twenty minutes to pack up my entire life.
Several trucks are lined up in front of my house, and they load the boxes into the beds. Tor talks to the guys briefly while I wait by the Lexus, then he comes over and drops into the driver’s seat.
I pulled on some black leggings before they packed everything, not especially wanting to be half-naked in front of the football team, so I’m not properly dressed, but at least I’m wearing clothes when I drop into the passenger seat.
I look at the house as Tor starts the car. My mom doesn’t come outside. I didn’t really think she would. She’s embarrassed, so I’m the enemy right now.
Tor reverses out of the driveway. My mom must have called Frank because I notice him coming down the road behind us, driving faster than the speed limit allows.
He’s too late to make a difference, but I still feel uneasy until he pulls into the driveway instead of following us. My mom always sics him on me when she’s angry, but maybe she knows better than to sic him on a Walters.
I glance over at Tor, but he doesn’t say anything.
I’ve never seen him angry like he was in that house. Cold. A little scary if you’re on the receiving end, I imagine.
When I was texting him, I told him the conversation didn’t go well, but I definitely didn’t provide enough context to elicit that kind of reaction.
Which means he got it some other way.
My mom and I were in the house alone, so no one could have told him.
I can only think of one explanation, and it’s crazy, but… I don’t know what else it could be. “Is it the phone you gave me?”
Tor is quiet for a few seconds, then he looks over at me. He’s guarded, but he doesn’t lie. “Yes.”
I nod, trying not to visibly freak out, but also trying to recall every single thing I’ve said or done when he wasn’t around. When I thought I wasn’t being watched.
“I didn’t know if I’d be able to get you on my side,” he says. “You were shocked when it first happened. You followed my lead, but I didn’t know if you would continue to follow me once that initial shock passed.”
“And what if I didn’t?” I ask.
“Then I needed to know,” he says flatly. “I’m sure you can understand that.”
I do understand that, but it brings my mind back to the same question I had last night when I ran from him.
Am I really as safe with him as I feel, or is there some set of circumstances that would put us on opposing sides—and me in imminent danger?