Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
The man didn’t deserve anything less.
None of Perry’s goons did.
I wouldn’t stop until every last one of them either died or spent the rest of their lives paying for what part they played in my son’s death, whether directly or indirectly.
I didn’t believe in Karma.
Karma was something that people that weren’t willing to defend themselves believed in.
Karma was the coward’s way out.
Life’s a bitch, and karma comes in the form of my fists for those that think they can get away with taking the easy way out.
***
One day later
“Keep up your meds,” I said to my father as I opened the door to the car.
My father glared at me as he stood up, wincing only slightly as he put weight on his weak leg.
He’d been shot in the back, just above his left hip.
The bullet had clipped a nerve as it passed through, and dad was still having trouble putting too much weight on it without it collapsing out from under him.
Hence why I’d brought him to my mom.
Which had been where he wanted to go in the first place.
Apparently, they’d been carrying on right under my nose for years, and neither one had thought it important to tell me.
“He has to stay off his leg as much as possible for the next week. He needs to start physical therapy within the next four days, here are his papers,” I told my mother as my father walked away from both of us.
My mother smiled up at me.
The smile quickly died as she caught the look in my eyes, then narrowed her eyes.
“What’s wrong with you?” She asked softly.
I shook my head.
“Nothing you can fix. Gotta go.”
I ignored her urging me to wait, and instead walked back to my side of the car, dropped my ass into the seat, and took off down the road, getting out of there as fast as the gas pedal would let me.
Where, I didn’t know.
But again, anywhere but there.
Chapter 23
I hate being sexy, but I’m a bearded man. I can’t help it.
-Fact of Life
Lenore
Karma was a bitch.
And I hoped Griffin’s balls rotted off.
I hated crying. It made my head hurt.
But right now I couldn’t make myself stop.
I’d been crying for three hours now.
I’d gotten out of the hospital to find myself dropped off at Griffin’s house.
Alison had picked me up, and she’d taken me to Griffin’s house…where there was no sign of Griffin anywhere.
Alison handed me a rhinestone-encrusted tiara keychain, and had waved goodbye in less than twenty minutes.
Woodenly, I’d gone into Griffin’s house and was flabbergasted at what I saw.
The entire place was furnished.
No more did it have second hand knockoffs.
Now the whole place was decorated in the rich colors that I loved.
Blue. Teal. Light brown.
The kitchen was redone.
The floors were wood instead of linoleum.
And on the table, in the very middle, was a note.
“The house is yours. Alison got a crew to update it for me. I put it in your name as of last week. ILY. Be safe. – G,” I’d read aloud.
And now here I was, eating a gallon of ice cream with Doogan laying at my feet.
The fridge had been stocked with all of my favorite things.
Whole milk. Chocolate syrup. My favorite brand of vanilla ice cream.
After walking throughout the entire house and realizing that Griffin had sufficiently erased everything that was him out of it, I sat down on the couch with my ice cream and started to think.
I was wearing a pair of Queen underwear, an exact replica of the ones I’d lost in the fire, eating straight out of the bucket.
I was sitting on the new couch, really missing Griffin’s old one, and wondering what in the hell I was supposed to do.
First things first, I had to find him.
I wasn’t supposed to be doing much walking around due to the gunshot wound to my head, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I should’ve known the man would do something like this.
Mr. I’m No Good For You.
I’d thought we’d gotten past that, but apparently we hadn’t.
I’d woken up only minutes before nurses had said a large, sexy man, fitting Griffin’s description, had shown up at my door with flowers.
From what I could conclude, Griffin had heard Remy’s warning to me to stay away from him.
Whether he heard my declaration of love or not was yet to be seen, but I knew how Griffin’s mind worked.
He’d already felt terrible for my being shot.
I hadn’t had to see him to know that he was feeling that way.
Griffin was a martyr.
If he thought I’d have a better life without him, he’d leave, no questions asked.
To top it off, he’d heard Remy, a man he’d felt threatened by since the very beginning, telling me to be aware that Griffin would always have trouble following him, and I just knew Remy’s words were the tipping point of his guilt.
Oh so slowly, I stood up and made my way to the back bedroom that used to be Griffin’s to find pants.
I’d always wondered why he’d not used the master.
But I’d yet to ask why.
I made a mental note to do so when I finally got him back where he belonged.
I opened the first drawer I came to and nearly hit my knees at seeing exact replicas of my favorite pants replacing the ones that perished in the fire.
Except they were brand new without that little stain at the front pocket.
I continued to dig, finding that he’d replaced nearly every single thing in my wardrobe down to pinpoint accuracy.
He’d spent the last two weeks being a very busy boy.
These actions were not the actions of a man that didn’t care for his woman any longer.
These were actions that say he loved his woman.
And I finally realized that there may be an easier way to get him to come back to me without me looking for him at all.
Smiling a tad bit manically, I slowly threaded my feet into my pants, and zipped them up.
They were a little tighter, and I thought that maybe soon I should start working out, and possibly give up all my sweets and carbs.