Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89259 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Luke was going to jump her ass for letting it slip. Oh well, serves her right for being an accomplice.
“I don’t need you to do anything for me. I can talk to Luke on my own.” I hung up before she had a chance to respond. Fuck her. I didn’t need her any more than she needed me. I dialed Luke’s number and silently hoped it would go to voicemail, but of course he picked up on the second ring.
“Dallas,” he said calmly, too calmly.
“Why do you have those pictures of me?” I asked trying to stay calm myself.
“You were not supposed to find those, but since you did, I will tell you….as soon as I get back on Tuesday,” he answered stiffly.
“Oh no, you are going to tell me now. I’m not waiting until Tuesday. According to Red I should have already known.”
“Yes, you should have. I was planning to tell you I just couldn’t find the right time. I was going to tell you on Tuesday and show them to you myself, but you beat me to it,” he said smoothly. His tone was impassive and I envisioned him sitting on the couch wearing the face that matched it.
“Why did you do this to me?” I choked out. I didn’t want him to hear me upset, but I couldn’t help it. I needed to know why the only man I had ever loved chose to kill me inside.
“I never meant for it to go this far.” I could hear the emotion seeping into his voice, although he tried to contain it. “I have to go Dallas,” he said clearing his throat. “I’ll see you on Tuesday and I’ll bring Neo and the things you left with me. I’m sorry things turned out this way.”
I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to run my car off the road so he would come to my rescue. God had given me damsel-in-distress moments ever since I met him, yet when I finally needed one, it wasn’t there. Luke had saved me numerous times. He had saved me from cowboys and motorcycle gangs and DUI’s, but most of all he had saved me from myself. I would thank him one day for what he had done for me, but right now, I just wanted to hate him.
I needed a drink-a strong one. I stopped at Our Place-a small bar that served liquor just off the highway. I knew I looked a wreck, but I didn’t care. I walked inside with my face red and blotchy from my endless crying, wearing nothing but Luke’s basketball shorts, black t-shirt and my flip flops.
The bar was almost empty, which wasn’t unusual for seven o’clock on a Friday night. I ordered a shot of Jack from the bartender and threw it back, letting the liquor burn my throat and distract me from the ache in my chest. I motioned for the bartender to keep them coming and before long, the pain was dulled and replaced with a buzz that had me lightheaded.
The jukebox played an endless stream of country music, reminding me of the heartache that had summoned me here. When the tips of my fingers were numb and my speech slurred, I decided it was time to head home. I left the bartender a fat tip to silence the “Do you want me to call you a cab” speech and stumbled to my car. I sat in the driver seat looking numbly out of the windshield. A movement to my left caught my eye. A motorcycle sat in the shadows of the vacant parking lot next to me. I knew it was probably one of Luke’s PROSPECTS and the thought sickened me.
It was almost nine when I pulled out of the parking lot, and I knew that I had drunk too much, but all I wanted was to go home. I tuned to a rock station on the radio and increased the volume to drown out the voices of Luke in my head.
By the grace of God and cold air blasting from the air conditioner, I managed to make it home in one piece. Not seeing Neo when I pulled up reminded me of Luke. Walking into the library reminded me of Luke and the first time he kissed me. My kitchen and counter and the stool on the end where he sat reminded me of Luke. My bedroom, where I had danced for him, my shower, and my radio-everything reminded me of Luke.
I crawled into my bed and shut my eyes trying to think of brown cows and light bread and England; anything to get my mind off of him. But, when I thought of cows I thought of milk and the gallon we had drank from when he caught me in his Harley room. When I thought of light bread I thought of the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches we had shared only hours ago, and when I thought of England I thought of English which is the language that Luke spoke. Nothing worked. He was everywhere. At some point, with the help of a bottle of Jack, I managed to doze into a restless slumber.