Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 20174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20174 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 101(@200wpm)___ 81(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Jake always has an answer ready. He’s a man of action. But right now, he’s hesitating.
Why?
When he does glance up at me, his eyes are hesitant, not solid like they always are.
Something snaps inside me. I don’t know if it’s terror or anger, but it’s piercing and painful, like a needle to the heart.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Before I know it, I’m storming away from him with tears pooling in my eyes. I keep my face hidden as I take the stairs. If our parents see, it will be over.
If it isn’t already…
It takes all my willpower not to slam my door behind me. And as I toss myself down on my bed, I listen, waiting for the sound of Jake’s footsteps.
Instead, I hear the front door open and close, and his car start and pull out of the driveway. My heart shatters.
Well, I guess I got my answer.
8
JAKE
I’m a fuck-up.
I’m an ex-con and a fuck-up. And last night, I really fucked up.
Piper’s face has been stuck in my mind. Those eyes…pleading with me for an answer. An answer I didn’t give.
What’s wrong with you? All you had to do was tell her you loved her.
And I couldn’t even do that.
Hearing that Dad might know about us just had me frozen. I was absolutely sure we were being careful. Just thinking about him finding out had me panicked.
I’ve been on the end of his anger before. I can handle it. But what I can’t handle is all this affecting her.
I spent all last night driving around, staying away from the house. I knew if I went home, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.
Wouldn’t be able to stop myself from rushing into her room and doing something that would get us both into even more trouble.
I’ll talk to her today. Make up for last night. She’ll listen to me. I know she will. But as I pull up to the house, I see her car is gone. So is Wendy’s.
The only one home is Dad. And he’s the last person I want to see right now. But I need to get inside. I need a shower. I need sleep.
I hear him in his study and try to sneak up the stairs to my room, but it’s no use. He comes barging out like a bull out of the gate.
“Where have you been?” he asks as if he’s accusing me of something. “Out all night?”
“Last time I checked, I’m a grown man. I don’t need your permission to go somewhere.”
“Last time I checked, I’m your father. And you still need to listen to me.”
I scoff. “So what? You want to give me a bedtime again?”
He’s being super hostile. Could what Piper said be true? Does he actually know about us?
He strides right up to me and gets in my face. My prison instincts immediately kick in, causing my fists to clench.
“You went to jail, Jake. And I took you back. If I want, I can toss you out on your ass just as quick.”
“Do you have something you want to say to me, Dad?”
I can see his eyes processing. Maybe he doesn’t know. Maybe he’s just suspicious.
He stares at me for a long moment. Then his phone rings. He shakes his head at me.
“You just keep yourself in line. You hear me? You owe me.”
And then he’s gone, back to his office with his cell pressed to his ear.
I storm up to my room and nearly take the door off its hinges as I burst inside. Stripping off my clothes, I climb into the shower and crank the water as hot as it can go. The heat almost takes my mind off what just happened.
Why is he acting like I’m some common criminal? Like I broke into a store or sold drugs or something? I was literally defending my biological mother, his ex-wife.
I never should have gone to jail in the first place.
I don’t owe him shit. If anything, he owes me. But he’ll never acknowledge it because then he’d have to acknowledge that I handled something that was his job.
As I’m getting out of the shower, I hear the front door. My heart leaps, but when I look outside, I see Dad climbing into his Porsche. He pulls off, heading for the office, I guess.
That leaves me alone, with nothing to distract me.
I phone Gus and ask him if I can come in. It’s my day off, but after the flooding catastrophe, he’s happy to have me.
We spend most of the day getting the shop in order, moving fans, doing our best to dry the place out. A flood in a woodshop is one of the worst things that can happen.
But even as I lug around boards and equipment, I can’t keep my mind off her. I call, but it goes straight to voicemail.