Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20977 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 105(@200wpm)___ 84(@250wpm)___ 70(@300wpm)
I pull my phone out of my pocket and send it to voicemail even though it’s Emily because I don't want her to hear me crying. My phone rings again and I'm worried that something happened to Dean. I answer it on the last ring, wiping my tears on my sleeve.
"Girl, I called to check on you. Why are you crying? Tell me you're okay.”
"No. No. Everything's fine,” I say as I sniffle.
"Bullshit. You're freaking crying. Is this about my brother?"
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling as I tell her the truth. "It's not just that. My parents are moving as soon as we cross the stage at graduation."
"Oh fucking hell no. Please tell me you're not leaving,” she screeches.
"I kind of don't have much of a choice. I don't start school until August." I don’t mention the shelter thing because she’ll think I’m crazy as hell.
"You're coming to stay with us. I'll talk to my parents tonight when they get home from visiting Dean,” she says with vehemence that I’m sure she’ll get her way. A part of me is happy about that. It strikes me that her parents are staying at the hospital with him the entire time.
"Is he not getting out soon?"
"The hospital called after James dropped you off. He got an infection this morning. My parents rushed out the door to stay with him."
"What?"
"Shit. He's okay. It's minor, but with everything going on they don't want to release him yet. I swear I'm not trying to freak you out." She’s lying. I know it’s not minor or they wouldn’t have called or rushed over there.
“Well, you’re doing a poor job of it, Emily.”
“Sorry, girl please keep it cool. I’m going to call my parents now. Maybe we shouldn’t have dropped you off at all.”
“No, it’s fine. I need to spend time with my parents while I can.” If I can’t be by Dean’s side, I don’t want to be around his family home so I can have him on my mind. I need to close off my mind from everything and remember that he’s strong and going to pull through. He must.
Chapter Three
Dean Jr.
Two weeks have passed since I last saw my sweet Greta. God, do I want this wait to be over. She never returned to the hospital and everyone else thought it was for the best, but I’m still pissed about it. I miss her with an insane intensity that I can’t even explain because it’s wrong.
Starting tonight she’ll be staying down the hall from me in my parents’ house.
Two rooms down.
It's like I'm being tortured for some unknown reason. I was pissed that I couldn't go to her graduation, but now she's back here to stay until she starts college. Well until two weeks before that because she's mine the second the clock strikes midnight on her birthday. I'm not waiting another painful moment more. Learning that my siblings weren't exaggerating about her feelings, I’m going to let her know how it’s going to be. I tell myself as I wait for them to return from the ceremony.
They only had so many tickets, leaving me to stew at home. Besides, I can’t walk on my own, so it would be a bit difficult to get me around with the large graduating class. My brothers are here as well, but they’re getting the mini party set up downstairs. I’m essentially fucking useless, so I’ll use my time for my own reflection. Sitting with my back against my headboard, I bring my hand up and slide it down my shaft, stroking hard as I think about Greta.
She had on that pretty blue dress that hugged her taut, large breasts, making my mouth water. It's etched in my mind, driving me to beat my cock hard with my good hand the second I'm alone in my bedroom. She's so perfect that I can't wait to sully her up. My hands itch to grab the front of her gown and tear it in half, letting her beauty spill out for my eyes only. Silly, the thought of me getting shot meant she never went to prom with some little pencil dick who wants what belongs to me. Two more months and I'm going to claim her over and over again until she only craves me.
Stroking faster, I let go and come all over my stomach. I grab a towel and wipe up my mess and then soak that shit before someone comes in to care for me. I don't want my mom or sisters' finding my dirty towels. It's been a fucking long time since I beat off in my old bedroom, but I've never had a better woman to picture. At my age, I should have had several girlfriends, but I made a promise that I'd save myself for a woman to love like my father loves my mother. I didn't want the chance of stupid teenage sex that leads to pregnancy.