Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“It’s a long story,” she whispers. “We dated in college, like I told you. A couple messy years where I didn’t know any better. I really lost myself, Brady.”
Outwardly, I’m steel. Inside, my blood boils at the thought that the fucking thief stole two years of her life.
I raise her hand softly to my lips and kiss her knuckles. It’s all I can do to keep my yap shut.
I’m dreading the rest of this, but I have to know.
This isn’t the kind of story that ends well. I just need her to know I’m with her as she walks me through it.
“We were just kids, even if he was a couple years older. I always thought he was brash. One of the popular boys who liked to party. At first, he had a little depth. But he was always hanging out around my mom’s ice cream shop in the summer with his friends. Right when I’d take the night shift.” She takes a deep breath.
“Easy,” I murmur. “Take your time.”
“It just happened, I guess. He seemed bright, and he made me laugh. He always tipped ludicrously well. Plus, he had a sweet tooth—what bad guy has a sweet tooth?”
“The real sickos,” I growl.
She almost smiles.
“Anyway, yeah, when he finally asked me out, of course I said yes. It was just . . . so much. Our first few days, he spent so much money on me. I was shocked because I didn’t have much growing up. My parents didn’t either. We were always on thin ice, just trying to get by.”
I can’t relate.
But I don’t need to in order to understand that life is hard without money, and we never choose how much we start with.
“It was a whirlwind. The first few months were magical, as cheesy as that sounds,” she whispers. “Like a movie, almost. I didn’t know how I got so lucky. He made me feel small with his money, his mind, and all the folks who knew him.”
Jealousy stabs my heart.
I pull her closer, into my arms.
“When did it go bad? I’ve heard of this before, and the guys who go hard from the start always turn.”
She nods. “Yeah. I mean, it was overwhelming for the first year or so. Coffee dates, museums, fancy dinners. His parents even had a—a large boat.”
The way she says the words immediately put me on edge.
It also clears some things up for me.
Like why my assets make her leery. Knowing she’s been ruined by one rich cock who tore her up and tossed her away like nothing.
“Clueless girl that I was, I fell so hard,” she says. “Faster than I’ve ever fallen in my life. When he started turning, like you say, it was easy to lie to myself. It’s hard to spot the asshole if you think there’s just sunshine up his butt.” Her smile slips. “I was a kid, really. I didn’t know any better. So, when he started to show his temper, when he’d yell at me, I just . . .”
I jerk her closer, pinning her to my chest. I’ll hold her all damn night if that’s what she needs to collect her thoughts.
But a minute later, she looks at me again, her smile so broken now.
“I folded. I never should’ve done it, I know that now. But I’d let him throw tantrums, telling myself he was just stressed. Nothing a little therapy couldn’t cure, someday. And when he’d throw my stuff around and break my dishes, he’d apologize later, and I thought his cooler side would win out. God, I was stupid.”
“We all make mistakes.”
“My biggest weakness was the way I would’ve done anything for him. And he knew that. He took advantage of it, he—” She chokes off.
“Hey, hey.” I rub her arms, slowly and gently, feeling the way the tension drains from her. “It’s okay, take your time.”
“Everyone should know what a scumbag he is.”
“Then I’ll broadcast it nationwide.” When she doesn’t smile, I kiss the top of her head. “Kidding. I won’t say a word unless you want me to. How long were you with him?”
“Too long. Between him sweeping me off my feet and me believing every lie, he had me wrapped around his finger even when things started to suck. I thought we’d get married one day and find a place of our own. All the fairy tales a young girl wants to believe. When you only have that growing up, you don’t know you’re with an abuser until he’s crushing you. Silly, I know.”
“It’s really not. You think the only people who believe in smoke and mirrors come from—what did you call it? Folks just getting by?” It’s an effort not to brush my knuckles across her cheek. “It’s what we all want, Lena, rich or poor. A universal fantasy we’ll pay a seriously fucked-up price to have.”