Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“I already told you guys, call me Gunner.” With an exasperated smile, Dad bounds off to use the bathroom.
“I’m gonna grab a shower.” Jack pauses on the bottom step, his gaze finding mine. He lowers his voice, which is futile since Lee is standing right there and isn’t polite enough to pretend he’s not listening. “Can we chat before bed?”
I nod, because I know we do need to talk.
As Jack heads upstairs, I turn to Lee and Jamie, giving them a grateful smile. “Thanks for being such good sports. You didn’t have to stay up so late on a school night for him.”
“Are you mental? It was bloody awesome,” Lee declares, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry, did you just say awesome?” My surprise turns to suspicion when I remember my dad said it a bunch of times at dinner. Looks like Lee has a new role model.
“I meant brilliant,” he growls before stomping to the kitchen. “Fancy a cuppa?” he calls over his shoulder.
“Yes, thanks,” Jamie says, trailing after him.
I hear a plaintive meow from the top of the stairs and spot Hugh peeking around the corner. When I call his name, our grumpy cat turns and saunters off.
Rolling my eyes, I go upstairs to find him. I swear, if I didn’t remember to pay attention to Hugh, the damned thing would be starved for affection. The Lord of Cats would not approve of Lee’s stone heart when it comes to our dear pet.
At the top of the landing, I hear low voices wafting out of Jack’s open door. I grin, hoping Dad hasn’t cornered Jack to interrogate him. I should probably throw him a lifeline.
“No, I’m happy we got a chance to talk alone,” Jack is saying.
I near the door, ready to interfere and protect Jack from a dad lecture, when my father responds with, “Thank you for not mentioning it to Abbey.”
I stop.
Thank you for not mentioning it to Abbey?
Not mentioning what to Abbey?
Unease tightens my chest. I creep closer, no longer eager to interrupt them.
“Of course” is Jack’s answer. “I am a bit confused, though. Did you truly not know I was a bloke?”
My father’s laughter sounds muffled. Maybe because my heart is now thundering like a cattle stampede from the anger coursing in my blood.
Either I’m imagining things, or the two of them…know each other.
“Had no idea,” Dad says. “Gonna have to reread those emails now— ”
Emails?
“—to figure out how the hell I could’ve missed it. I saw that profile picture and thought you were the blond girl.”
Jack chuckles. “That’s my sister.”
“Well, regardless of the mistaken identity, I do appreciate you looking out for my daughter.”
“It was no problem, really. Although— ”
Jack’s next words stop me cold.
“—I do wish you’d let me return the money.”
42
I FEEL SICK.
Weak.
The last time I felt this winded, it was after I got tackled by that behemoth Ruth Caskill during a game of field hockey junior year of high school. Only this isn’t a game. This is the implosion, the ultimate betrayal, of two relationships that meant the world to me.
My father paid Jack to “look out for me.”
He fucking paid him.
Actual money.
“That’s totally unnecessary, kid. I’m the one who reached out to you in the first place. You don’t need to return a cent— ”
I burst into Jack’s room, shoving the open door with such force it slams against the wall with a deafening bang.
Both men jerk in shock.
“Abbs?” Dad looks at me in confusion.
But Jack…Jack knows I heard every word. His face pales the moment he sees mine, broad shoulders dropping.
I stare at them both, my breathing so shallow I start to feel light-headed.
Somehow, I muster a semicalm tone and not a shriek of outrage. “What money is he talking about, Dad?”
My father briefly closes his eyes.
“What the hell is going on?” I push. “You two know each other?”
When Dad’s eyelids flick open, I glimpse the unmistakable hue of guilt.
“Not quite,” he answers in a strained voice. “I didn’t know Jack here was a man.”
“But you had contact with him before I left for London?”
“Not before.” There’s a pause. “I emailed him the day after you left.”
My bottom lip starts trembling. I’m so angry I’m about to cry. I suck in a breath, my gaze shifting between them. They exchange a quick, frantic look as if waiting for the other to jump in with an explanation for me, but neither of them speak.
I release the breath, my entire body quavering. “One of you’d better fucking start talking.”
“Language,” Dad chides.
“No. Fuck that.” Another bolt of fury sizzles up my throat and clamps around so tight, my next words exit in a strangled growl. “You’ve both been lying to me for months?”
Jack finally speaks. “That’s not how it was.” He scrubs a hand over his forehead, gaze averted. “I got an email from your dad on your second day here.”