Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 71015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71015 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Leaning forward so it wasn’t directly in her line of sight, I stared at her beseechingly.
She took a deep breath. “You know it’s possible that I could get breast cancer. It runs in my family.”
I nodded. “Yeah, but only with your mother. And that could’ve been just a fluke of nature. Why are you saying this?”
She shook her head. “I’m not really sure. I just wanted you to know that it was a possibility. And I wanted to know if you’d let me go if I wanted to be let go. If something where to happen, and I was to live half a life, I would hope that you’d let me go.”
Leaning forward, I kissed her softly on the mouth.
“How about we worry about that when it comes down to it. But know one thing,” I said, leaning in close. “I’ll never give up on you. I’ll fight Satan and God himself to keep you with me. You’re mine, and I’m yours. And you will fight for me if it ever comes down to it. Because if you’re gone, what do I have left?”
She wisely chose not to answer that, and instead closed her eyes, leaning her head against my bare chest.
I reached over and turned off the light, bringing the covers up high over our bodies before I lay awake for nearly another hour thinking about what she’d said.
I really would never give up on her. Ever.
***
Torren
Marriage- Month three
“Your woman’s here,” Kettle said, pointing in the direction of my wife who was pulling up at the four way stop.
I smiled at her and started jogging toward her.
We were in the process of having the annual ‘Fill the Boot’ donation drive that would provide the children of Benton, Louisiana with a new jungle gym. Each year, we chose a different charity to donate to, and all the money we collected, while working the main intersection, would go to filling that charity’s need for that year.
Then we’d stand at the intersection and collect money from the motorists who passed through the intersection.
Each year we’d collect right around two grand. Then we’d match whatever we made, making it a sizable donation for a worthy cause.
She smiled up at me when I got to the car window and handed me a box.
“I just wanted to bring this by to you. Give me a kiss, I’m meeting some friends,” Tru said, handing over a long slender box wrapped in red with a giant (and by giant, I mean the size of my head) bow.
“Who’s it for?” I asked curiously.
She laughed as she started creeping away, “It’s for you, silly. Maybe you should sit down while you open it. Wouldn’t want to break anything.”
With that cryptic comment, she accelerated through the intersection, stopped where Kettle was standing, and tossed him the entirety of her change tray before driving away.
“What’s that you got there?” Sebastian asked once I got back to my post.
I shrugged and opened the package, ripping the massive bow off and letting it fall carelessly to the ground.
“That’s littering,” Kettle yelled across the intersections.
I gave him a hand gesture and ripped off the paper, surprised when there was nothing in the box.
Folding back the paper, little pieces of pink and blue confetti floated down to the asphalt at my feet.
“There’s nothing here,” I said as I emptied the box, shaking it.
Sebastian’s eyes flicked to the paper, the box, then he gestured towards the paper that was at my feet. “What’s that?”
I looked down at the pieces of blue and pink paper, dropping down to my haunches to get a closer look.
Picking up a handful, I held it out to him.
He picked up a stray piece of pink, bringing it close to his face, before his mouth tipped up into a wide smile.
Holding it between two fingers, he held it up to my face, and I read.
A car stopped and handed Kettle a five dollar bill, but I couldn’t even muster up a smile.
It was a good thing I was squatting down already, because the next thing I knew I was flat on my ass.
“Holy…fucking…shit,” I breathed.
“What?” Kettle yelled once the truck sped off.
Sebastian was laughing his ass off, so much so that he couldn’t even manage to tell Kettle what the deal was.
I, of course, couldn’t either. My mind was in a fog.
Kettle jogged over, and I watched him come as if I was in some sort of time warp.
Was she really?
“Well?” Kettle asked, once he reached our sides.
Sebastian pointed at the pile of confetti at my feet, causing Kettle to bend down and pick up a handful.
Then, without further ado, a brilliant smile lit his face and he whooped. “You’re gonna be a daddy!”
Black spots started dancing in my vision, and I felt what amounted to panic welling my throat.
But a weird sense of pride was there as well. Love. Hope.
“Boom, bitches!” Kettle whooped.
I shook my head, clearing my vision just in time to see Sebastian snapping a photo of me, smiling. “That’ll be going on the wall at work.”
I flipped him off.
A dad.
Holy shit!
***
Marriage- Month five
“You got eyes on him?” I asked Silas.
We were all crowded around the bar. Eight Dixie Wardens strong. As well as Daniella, Frank, and my brother.
It’d started out as a party, and turned into a clandestine meeting to talk about what we were going to do with Bobby. The man who had it out for my wife.
Silas nodded. “Still in prison. He’s gonna make parole, though. He’s not gotten into one single fight the entire time he’s been in there. Boy’s good. Knows to keep his nose clean. Not even a single complaint from guard or prisoner alike.”
I ground my teeth together.
That ‘boy’ was dead-fucking meat.
Bobby Prescott deserved a lot more than two years in prison, with the possibility of parole at fifteen months. Eight of which he’d electively served as he waited for the trial. Which meant he would be eligible in a little over six months.
And we all knew he was already waiting for his revenge. He’d told me in not so many words. Mainly by pointing at me, then drawing the pointed finger across his neck in the proverbial sign of ‘I’m gonna slit your throat,’ the day of the trial.