Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26884 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Tears spring to my eyes as more grunts sound through the heavy wooden slabs, and I clutch my hands to my mouth. Grams was right. Peter doesn’t see what we have as anything real because if he did, he wouldn’t be screwing some woman in his office in the middle of the day.
The sound of a man breathing heavily sends me over the edge and tears start rolling down my face. When I turn around, I nearly run into Elise. The blonde woman obviously knows what’s going on, and her expression is shamefaced.
“No need to tell Mr. Wilshire I was here,” I gabble. “I’m leaving and I won’t be back.”
Something crosses her face, but I don’t want her pity. “Ma’am, let me just say…” she begins.
But I don’t wait for her to finish. Elise might love her job and be willing to lie for Peter, but I am not going to stand here and listen to her defend him when it’s abundantly clear what’s happening on the other side of those doors. The man I was falling for, who is also the father of my baby, is currently having sex with another woman. As if to underline my point, a particularly loud squeal punctuates the air, and I let out a choked sob.
I push past Elise and take off running with tears streaming down my face as my world crashes down around me. Peter never loved me, and yet I was an idiot and stupidly allowed myself to fall for him. How could this have happened? I was the dumb one because Grams was right all along: he was only looking for an escort, and I happened to be the girl to scratch that itch. But actions have consequences, and now, I’m expecting the cheater’s baby.
10
Peter
The phone goes straight to voicemail again and I slam it down on the coffee table. What the hell? For two days now I haven’t heard from Angie, and then she sends me straight to voicemail when I try to call her. The fuck is going on?
The last time I saw her, we were here, in my bed, happily going at it. Okay, so maybe her bottom was a little sore and she didn’t appreciate the fact that I wanted to stretch it again, but that doesn’t merit the silent treatment. At least, I don’t think it does. Hell, we even showered together before I had to head off to work that morning. But it’s been crickets ever since. Angie’s just disappeared, even going so far as to leave a bunch of her stuff behind like she doesn’t want them anymore. Most of the discarded items are things I purchased for her, but what am I supposed to do with them?
Steam hisses from my ears. I’m pissed, and I know there are only two places she could be: Bad Burger, or her grandmother’s apartment. Angie’s never introduced me to her grandmother, and I’ve often wondered why not, since May is her only close relative. But I’ve been careful not to press too hard, because everyone has their reasons. Well, that ends today. I guess her grandmother and I will be meeting because I’m going to find the girl and then shake her so hard that her head bobbles back and forth like a rag doll. After I give her a kiss and claim her body, of course.
I throw on some jeans and a t-shirt and practically run out the door. It doesn’t take long for me to reach Angela’s apartment, but that has more to do with the way I was speeding than the actual distance between our homes. Gripping the steering wheel, I stare at her building and grimace a bit. It’s a dingy tenement walk-up, with a rusty fire escape that’s probably more of a hazard than a help, and a front door that looks like it’s been beaten in a time or two. Mentally, I make a note to move her grandmother out of this dump asap.
With a sigh, I park the car and then follow a resident in, who doesn’t even check to make sure that I live there. Clearly, this place is dangerous. Then, I make my way to the fifth floor before knocking on a dingy blue door. Angie is smiling as she pulls the wooden slab open, but when she sees me, her smile falls away. In fact, it’s replaced by a glare that could burn holes through concrete and her mouth thins into a tight line. Then she slams the door shut in my face before I can move.
I pound on the hard surface. “Angie, open the door. I don’t know what’s going on, but we have to talk.”
Silence. I can almost hear her breathing on the other side.
I pound my fist on the door again. “Dammit, Ang! Open up!”