Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Is that even possible?
Before I can go too far down the rabbit hole, a black SUV rolls up perilously close to the shed. The windows are jet black, making it impossible to see inside. Nerves ripple low in my stomach as a man in one of those tailored suits slips alongside the vehicle.
He takes his glasses off so I can see his gray eyes. Troy Castelli. Thank God.
“Ms. Kelley, I heard you’d like a ride.”
A chuckle escapes me. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, Troy.”
“I’m happy to take you wherever you want.”
“I just want to get out of here without my picture being splashed on social media. Can you pull that off?”
He opens the back door. “Absolutely.” He turns to offer me a hand and then sees, for what seems like the first time, the tulle that must also go in the SUV. “How do we get all of … that in there?”
“It’s tulle.” I bunch as much of the fabric in the front as I can. “I hate it.”
“Then why did you choose it?”
The question makes me pause. Why did I choose tulle over lace? Surf-n-turf over chicken strips and sliders for the reception? The diet drink over the full sugar soda at the rehearsal dinner?
“Troy, it seems I’m a bit of a pushover.”
“No offense, ma’am, but a lot of people inside the church would probably disagree with you.”
I grin, standing a little taller. “You’re right. Now shove this godforsaken dress in the car, and let’s get out of here.”
With a little work and a lot of pushing white fabric into every vacant space in the back of the SUV, we make it work. Troy is in the driver’s seat in the blink of an eye.
“We’ll go out the back service entrance,” he says, holding my gaze in the rearview mirror. “You can breathe, Ms. Kelley. It’s going to be all right.”
I exhale, the sound taking up all the room the tulle isn’t. I hope you’re right.
My heart pounds as we roll to the back of the church. Troy makes a hand signal to a police officer at the makeshift gate, and it’s immediately moved.
The crowd has nearly tripled since I arrived two hours ago. The streets have been closed, and people have filled the block surrounding Mt. Calvary Church. Lawns of the nearby houses are littered with bodies. Television crews are set up on sidewalks with vans and microphones.
It’s a mess.
And about to get messier.
I glance at the clock on the dash. The ceremony is set to start in two minutes. I squeeze my eyes closed and try to ignore the fire blazing in my stomach.
“Ms. Kelley?”
I open my eyes. “Yes?”
“Where are we headed?”
Oh. Right.
Good freaking question.
Adrenaline flows through my veins, and my palms start to sweat. Where are we headed?
The hotel is out. The bridal party will inevitably return to their rooms to gather their things. Not to mention, there’s no way I could get into the hotel discreetly and make it to my room. My parents’ house is a definite no. I’d be emotionally and physically burned at the stake. I could ask Troy to drive me to the airport, but that’s an hour and a half away, and no reservations have been made. My passport is at the hotel. And what do I do with all this damn tulle?
Breathe, Laina.
There must be somewhere I can go.
I sort through every person I still know in Brickfield—which isn’t many. I’ve lost contact with nearly all my old friends since I left six years ago. I can’t trust anyone to hide me until I figure this disaster out, anyway. I can’t even get a room in Peachwood Falls because someone would wind up seeing me, and I’d get trapped with no way out.
“How about …” Before I can ask him to find a back road to kill some time while I think, the answer pops in my head.
It is safe. Probably.
I may not exactly be welcome, but I won’t be forced to leave. I don’t think.
There will definitely be nothing to eat, the bedding will need to be washed, but I’ll be able to let myself inside.
My lips curl slowly into a smile. And, for the first time today, I don’t feel like the sun is setting on my soul.
“See that sign for Peachwood Falls?” I ask. “Head there.”
CHAPTER 2
Laina
The asphalt, busted with potholes but asphalt all the same, turns into gravel. Troy slows the SUV as its tires crunch across the rocks.
The field on the right side of the road has a path leading to a smaller field in the rear. It’s on top of a hill, surrounded by trees, and was too much of a pain in the ass to farm, according to the old farmer who used to tend to the land. My friends and I spent many weekend nights back there listening to music, building bonfires that almost got away from us, and drinking cheap wine and even cheaper beer like the adults we weren’t.