Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 98697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I’ve never felt so hurt in my life. I’ve gone from hurt to confused to raging mad. He needs to feel how I feel.
I put in my EarPods and play “Bust Your Windows”. Then I saunter toward his car with my bat in hand. As Jazmine Sullivan sings, the rain is falling, and tears are streaming down my face.
I wind my wrist as I get to the car then swing with all my might at the driver’s side window. My insides are crumbling to pieces as I see images of them walking together in my head.
I swing again and again until all the windows on the driver’s side are smashed out. Then I climb onto the car and get on top of the roof.
I then beat the hell out of the windscreen. I lift the bat over my head and bring it down as hard as I can. I have loved that man for most of my life.
I gave myself to him despite my mother’s warning. He didn’t take my life, but this feels like he did. I trusted him and he hurt me.
I’ve taken lives for him, and this is how he repays me. How could he? What didn’t I do for him?
Why come to find me and destroy me like this? That little girl looks to be about two. He’s been fucking around behind my back for as long as we’ve been together.
“Ya love me? This is yer love?” I sob as I beat the doors in after jumping back down to the ground.
I swing at the passenger’s side windows and take them out, then I walk around the car and examine my work. With my chest heaving, I toss the bat into the back window and walk off.
“You’re motherfucking right, I bust the windows out your car,” I say in my best New York accent. “Fuck you, fuck New York, and fuck your car.”
Brooklyn
I’m standing in the rain, no shoes, no shirt. Staring at my trashed car as the woman who trashed it tosses her bat into the back window and walks off with her hips swaying as she shakes her neck, talking to herself.
My hair is plastered to my face, but all I can do is throw my head back and laugh. I thought I loved DJ before. Now, I know I’m in love with her.
I press the key fob to turn off the alarm. I continue to laugh and shake my head at the rage she just took out on my car. I lift a brow as she speeds away in a car I don’t recognize.
“So you’re jealous, baby girl,” I snort to myself. “I love your ass too.”
I smile and laugh some more. We’ll see about that temper. I can’t wait for the makeup sex.
CHAPTER 31
Step Back
Brooklyn
I sit in the car Seán brought to me as my wrecked car was hoisted onto a flatbed. After changing into dry clothes, I drove here to the house, hoping Deja would still be here. She is, but I’m not sure for how long.
From the cameras in our home, I can see she’s packed her things. I can also see she has passed out face down on the bed. She’s lying there in her nightgown with her arm hanging over the side of the bed.
I want nothing more than to climb out of this car, go inside, and climb into the bed with her. Then fuck her until she understands she’s the only one for me. However, I know how angry she is and that wouldn’t be fair.
“Keep your head, Cole. This is your girl. Handle her with care,” I mumble to myself.
I want us to sit calmly and talk this out. She deserves that much, but I’m still not willing to tell her everything about Shauna, so I don’t know where that leaves me.
I still believe I’m doing the right thing. I can’t let this change my mind and jeopardize all I have done to keep my girls safe. My niece is my heart and DJ is my world.
It would kill me to lose either of them. I’d rather be safe than sorry. I can’t risk telling DJ the whole truth. Not yet.
I stare at her sleeping form in our bed, wondering how I got here. I love this woman more than anything, but life keeps getting in the fucking way. Just when I think this will be the time for me to make things right and take her home, this happens.
“Fuck this,” I grunt and go to get out of the car.
We can fight, we can fuck, but by morning, we’re going to set this all straight. I reach for the door handle, but my phone begins to ring. I curse under my breath and look at the caller ID on the dash.
My brows draw in as I look at the name of the caller. My chest tightens. This is not someone who calls me often, if ever.