Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
He was right.
“You just need a date. And you know exactly who to ask.”
That would be a big, fat no. I wasn’t doing that.
I couldn’t.
Wasn’t it bad enough that I thought of him, day in and day out, but now I had to remember what it would feel like to be close to the man?
Yeah, I was thinking it’d be the best idea to stay far, far away from him.
“That doesn’t mean I need to ask him,” I pointed out. “I can ask anyone. Maybe Audric would go with me.”
“If you don’t ask Copper, I will.”
I groaned into my hands, “Dad…”
“You are not going to that friend’s wedding, where you damn well know Joey will be in attendance, without Copper. Unless you want to take me as your plus one.” Dad perked up.
I groaned and leaned against a faded wall with blue paint.
My head dropped to the side as I tried to come up with a valid excuse for my father that might actually persuade him to not push me on this.
I stopped immediately because the chipped and peeling paint poked me in the forehead, and I was reminded that lead poisoning wasn’t good for you.
Poor Holt only had one parent. I couldn’t be putting my life at risk like that.
I reluctantly pulled my head away from the peeling paint that lined the crappy wall next to the park I’d intended to take Holt to since it was such a nice morning.
“Dad…”
My phone beeped, and I pulled it away from my head and glanced at the screen.
I grimaced when I saw it was Joey.
Again.
Joey:
You’re such a fuckin’ bitch, sending that man to collect child support. I don’t even see the kid, so what’s the point of paying?
Joey:
If I see you at the wedding, I’m going to fuckin’ never let you hear the end of it. Might fuckin’ kill you while I’m at it.
“Dad,” I said carefully. “Did you go to Joey and make sure that he paid the child support like I asked you to?”
I’d been struggling, and the only way that I could make ends meet with the rent on the house I was renting was if Joey paid his child support.
I had no clue babies were so expensive, and Holt was draining me dry. Food, clothes every other week. Diapers.
“I didn’t go exactly…” Dad hedged.
“Who did?” I asked, hoping that he hadn’t done what I’d thought he did.
Of course, my luck wasn’t that good.
“I asked Copper if he and some of his boys could do it,” he said. “Did he not tell you when he dropped the money off?”
The money hadn’t been dropped off at the door.
It’d been placed on my kitchen counter with a Post-it Note that said ‘CHILD SUPPORT’ in big, bold, slashy letters.
I should’ve known that it’d come from Copper.
Though, the letter arriving wasn’t the first thing that’d happened in my house.
It was only the last in a long string of events.
The first time I’d really noticed the weird things happening, it’d been an empty bottle. A washed, and dried, empty bottle that’d been upside down in the bottle cleaning rack.
Then, when I knew that I was out of cereal for Holt, it’d been a brand new, value sized box, sitting on my counter ready for me to use with his cereal the next morning.
When I’d dressed Holt in a sleeper that I’d had to cut the feet out of, I’d woken up the next morning with Holt wearing a brand-new sleeper that fit him well.
Fuck.
Who was I kidding?
I might not have actively set eyes on Copper, but he hadn’t left me behind.
“Dad,” I said softly. “Would you be mad if I tried to pursue something with Copper?”
There was a moment of silence and then, “No. I couldn’t dream up a better man for you.” He hesitated. “But Copper’s fucked up, baby. He’s still so messed up from what he did to his father, and what happened to him in those critical first years in prison, that I don’t think he’ll make this easy for you.”
I’d sensed that from the beginning.
That’s probably why I left in the first place, if I were being honest.
It hadn’t had anything to do with putting a damper in his personal life, and everything to do with me not being ready to do what it would take to help a man like Copper cope.
I’d been screwed up myself, who was I to try to fix a man like Copper?
Was I even ready now?
Holt screeched and reached for my coffee again, and I smiled and stilled when I saw today’s note.
How had I missed it until now?
Today’s note was in the slashy writing that all his notes had been in.
It read: Be safe.
“I gotta go. Picking up my load.” Dad paused. “Your mom wants to do lunch sometime this week.”
I grimaced. “We’ll see.”