Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
To my shock, Walker reached for me, squeezing my arm in comfort. Reassurance. When I looked into his face, I thought I even saw admiration.
It steeled me enough to tell the rest of my story. “Nathan started getting in deeper with this gang that chopped cars and dealt drugs. He worked his way up the ranks. And he grew more abusive. So much so that I got up the nerve to leave him when Callie was a toddler.”
Walker released my arm and asked, “How did he feel about that?”
“Oh, not good.” I sighed. “In Nathan’s mind, Callie and I belong to him.”
“Belong, not belonged?”
I grimaced but continued, “He got too busy after a while to keep up his threats to drag us back. He actually let us get on with our lives and dropped off money now and then. I took it,” I admitted, ashamed, “even knowing where it came from. But I was a single mom with only a high school education.”
“You did what you had to,” Walker assured me gruffly.
That shame eased a bit. “I did,” I agreed. “Nathan … I tried dating when Callie was five, and he almost killed the guy.”
At that, Walker straightened in his seat. Alert. Understanding where this story was going, no doubt.
“So, I didn’t date again. I tried to get on with my life. We found a nice enough apartment that I could barely afford, and our neighbor, Juanita, watched Callie while I worked this receptionist job I’d lied my way into. Someone there had it out for me, and I got fired on the same day I got an eviction notice on my door. I was out of options. Callie would not be homeless under my watch.”
“You went to Nathan?”
I nodded. “Last year. A few months before we came here. An old friend told me I could find Nathan at a house party. I went there to ask him for money, but I found him in a room with a young woman. When he asked her to leave, she got offended by my presence and she started arguing with him. He got violent fast. He was … he was going to rape her right in front of me.”
Anger hardened every inch of Walker’s expression.
“He had a gun. I couldn’t … he’d tried with me, and I got away … and I couldn’t let that happen to this girl. I just couldn’t. We fought …” I shook as the memory played vividly in my mind. “And she got hold of the gun and accidentally shot me.” Reaching for the sleeve of my shirt, I pushed it up and showed Walker the scar on my upper left arm. The memory of the pain flared, like searing nerve pain. A burn that was hard to describe.
Walker reached out, as if his hand had a mind of its own, his thumb sweeping gently across the scar. Goose bumps prickled in the wake of his touch. His eyes flew to mine, and my breath caught at the fierceness of his expression.
It took me a second to get my breath back, and even as I spoke, my voice was huskier. “Nathan has … had a very twisted way of caring about me. I mattered to him, but only because he saw me as something he owned. So when he saw me shot, he wrestled the gun off her and he came to me.” I patted the air beside me. “He left the gun at my side. Then he turned to her and he beat her. And beat her. And beat her. I knew, in here”—I punched my gut—“that he would not stop … so I reached for the gun, and I shot him.”
“Did you kill him?” Walker asked bluntly.
I gave him a quick swipe of my head. “Something very few people know about me is that my dad liked guns. Shooting them, I mean. It wasn’t an interest we’d shared, but because I loved him and wanted his time and attention, I’d visited the gun range with him every month from the age of eight to fifteen. I could have shot competitively if I’d wanted. I have excellent aim. I shot to maim, not kill.”
Walker raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad to hear it. About the excellent aim, I mean.”
My lips twitched despite myself. “Anyway, Nathan had locked us in this bedroom at the back of the house. There were French doors going into the garden. The girl was a mess. Nathan’s thug friends were hammering on the door after hearing the second shot. And I guess adrenaline kicked in because I got my ass up, had the presence of mind to wipe down the gun, and I somehow got the girl to her feet and we escaped out the back door.” My heart raced as if I was experiencing it all over again. “It felt like hours running through the neighborhood. She kept wanting to pass out, and I wasn’t doing much better with a bullet in my arm.”