Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
And she headed straight toward the bridge ahead of them.
What?
Fuck!
He jumped out of the SUV, not even bothering to lock it as he took off after her.
“Bebe!” he screamed. “What are you doing? Get back here!”
What the fuck?
“Bebe!”
At three in the morning, with heavy fog, the traffic was pretty much non-existent. But he felt the years slipping away from him as she ran across the road without even looking.
He was going to spank her every night for a month!
From now on, he would be buckling her into a car seat she couldn’t get out of herself.
She wasn’t allowed to go anywhere unless he was holding her hand.
Yes, he knew he couldn’t actually do those things. But he’d had enough.
That was it.
No more Mr. Nice Guy.
He ran across the road, following her, his heart in his throat. Until he had her safely in his arms, he wouldn’t be able to fucking breathe!
She reached the rail of the bridge and was staring down at the water. He could barely see her between the darkness and fog, but something about the way she stood made him come to a stop.
Caution.
At that moment, she wasn’t the Bebe he’d come to know. The funny, intelligent girl who lit up the room with her smile. Who everyone seemed to gravitate toward. Who loved a challenge and didn’t back down when things got hard.
No.
Right now, she looked fragile. Breakable.
And terror gripped his throat. If he handled this badly, then he might lose that Bebe.
Forever.
All because of that bitch of a mother of hers.
How could she do this? Did she seriously think that she would pressure Bebe into filming the show? And why? It wasn’t like Barb needed the money. So what did she get out of all this?
Was it just to torment Bebe?
Well, mission accomplished. When he looked at his girl right now, all he saw was someone who’d been tormented.
Hurt.
And it made his insides twist even as he promised himself that he was going to ensure she didn’t hurt like this again.
“Bebe,” he said quietly. “Baby, it’s cold and dark out here. Come to me. Come here.”
“I . . . I . . . I can’t.”
“Sure you can.”
She shook her head, letting out a cry that was so full of pain it hit him hard in the stomach.
Was he already fucking this up?
Be careful. Don’t push her. Baby steps.
He took a step forward and she shied back. “Stay away from me, Corbin.”
“I can’t, baby,” he replied gently. But he did pause. “I can’t leave you, but I will give you some space.”
But only for a few moments.
Why hadn’t he realized just how fragile her state of mind was? Several times, he’d noticed that she seemed almost sad beneath her smiles, but he’d written that off as his imagination. Or just something normal.
He wouldn’t do that again.
She shook her head. “You should leave me. I’m a mess. Such a mess. Everything I touch turns to crap.”
“That’s not true.” Why would she say that?
“It is! Which is why you should stay away from me! I’m just going to infect you too.”
Infect him?
What the fuck?
“You are not a disease,” he told her firmly. “I don’t want to hear you say that about yourself again.”
“Why not?” She still wouldn’t look at him or come close, but at least she was talking to him. It eased some of that tight knot in his gut.
“Because it’s not true. And because I care about you too much to let you speak about yourself like that.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“I’m sorry, baby, but you can’t tell me how to feel about you.”
She wiped at her eyes.
“Tell me what’s going on in your head, Bebe.”
“What’s going on in my head? What’s going on?” she reiterated, smacking the palm of her hand against her forehead.
“Stop it!” he said sharply. “Don’t hurt yourself. I don’t like it when you hurt yourself.”
“What if I deserve to hurt?” she whispered.
“I don’t believe that. What the hell could you have done to deserve being hurt?” he snapped.
“Plenty. I wasn’t the nicest person when I was a teenager. I was rebellious and selfish. Perhaps this is my penance.”
“Then all teenagers will have to be punished. Because that’s what teenagers do. They rebel. They don’t think of others. Christ, they’re kids and just feeling their way. It’s nothing that they should have to serve penance for. You were a kid. Baby, you don’t deserve to be punished, and I don’t like where your thoughts are headed.”
A car went past, and he hoped like hell that they didn’t stop or report them to the police. That was the last thing they needed.
“My thoughts . . . my thoughts are that I can’t believe she did that. And at the same time, I don’t know why I’m so surprised, you know? If she can exploit something for her own gain, then she will do it. And it doesn’t matter that I’m her daughter. I doubt it occurs to her to take my feelings into account. I don’t know what to do! Corbin, I don’t know what to do!”