Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
“Whatever.”
Then I hung up.
***
I played.
I played hard, and after practice was over, Linc got in my face. “Listen, fucker. I know that you’re pissed. Hell, I’m pissed, too, but at you—not for you. You both played a part in this little predicament you’ve found yourselves in. It’s a goddamn miracle, not a prison sentence. Get your head on straight, go get some counseling if that’s what it takes, and then go to your woman.”
I scoffed and turned away. “I’m not going to counseling, and I’m not going to lose another kid. You can’t lose something you’ve never had.”
With that, I walked out off the field, grabbed my shit from the locker room, and headed right out of the stadium. Hell, I didn’t even stop to say goodbye to Joe Blow, who was schmoozing up his girl.
I headed straight to my bike, and then to the bar that I’d found myself frequenting since Izzy had left.
But even there I couldn’t get away.
Word had spread that I was there alone, but it didn’t stay that way for long.
My brothers all circled around me, and with each one who showed up, the more foul my already foul mood became until I tried to leave there, too.
But they refused to let me leave.
Just like they did the next night.
And the night after that.
And the night after that.
They never let me be alone, and I slowly came to realize that they didn’t plan to until Izzy came home.
Chapter 22
I have two moods lately: 1. Hi, how are you? 2. Talk to me and I’ll stab you.
-Text from Izzy to Reagan
Izzy
Three Months Later
I was working my ass off to get clients, and I was proud to say that I had one thing going for me.
When people had a pregnant woman practically begging them to clean their house, they usually gave in to her.
Which was why I was now cleaning six houses every week, and four more every other week.
I rubbed my bump and thought about where my life had taken me.
It definitely wasn’t where I expected it to go, but I wasn’t about to complain.
Not when my baby was safe and healthy, and I was making enough money to support myself and this new life whenever he or she decided to make their appearance—though, hopefully that wouldn’t be for another three and a half months.
I didn’t smile.
I didn’t hang out with people.
I kept to myself, and I continued to mourn the loss of my relationship with Rome, but now at least I was only crying when I saw something that reminded me of him. Which, unfortunately, was still pretty regularly.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the screen, surprised when I saw it was Wade.
I contemplated not answering, but I wouldn’t ignore it today. Something told me that I should answer.
I hadn’t answered any of the calls from any of Rome’s friends lately, either. Bayou, Wade, Linc, Joe Blow, and a few other of the MC members that had all called, I assumed, to check in on me.
I was assuming so that they could relay to Rome how I was doing and rub it in his face.
Whatever the reason, I stopped answering calls from all of them. I didn’t want them to hurt Rome in any way, including rubbing his face in the fact that I was doing just fine… especially because I really wasn’t.
Answering the call, I steeled myself for what I’d hear.
What I heard wasn’t at all what I expected.
“Hello?” I answered hesitantly.
“Izzy?” Wade’s deep voice drawled.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “It’s me.”
He breathed out, clearly relieved as if he hadn’t expected me to answer.
“Okay,” he said. “I have a lot to tell you.”
I waited, unsure if I wanted to hear whatever it was that he had to say, but unable to stop myself at this point.
I was so hungry for any word on Rome that it was killing me slowly.
“Are Ruben and Diana all right?” he started.
I frowned.
“Ruben and Diana?” I asked softly. “How would I know?”
I kept expecting them to show, but they never did.
My hope was that they found some other alternative that meant that they wouldn’t have to run away.
Or maybe they did run away, just not to me.
There was a pregnant pause, and then Wade cursed. “They didn’t go with you?”
I cleared my throat. “I told them the address where I would be, and said if they happened to show up, I’d give them shelter, but I wouldn’t take them with me. I didn’t want to get them—or myself—in trouble.”
He growled. “I should’ve tried fucking harder to get a hold of you. Okay. Fuck. Do you have any idea where they’re at?”
I thought about it. “No, I swear to you. I honestly have no clue. Why?”
“That’s my reason for calling,” he muttered. “Rodrigo’s trial is next week. We need you to come back and testify about what you saw in those photos. I only have the original evidence, the photos that you sent to me, but they’ll be given more weight if you’re there to testify as to what you saw at Senator Antilles’s house.”