Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Plans never work out how you think, Doctor. I’m surprised and scrambling to catch up, but I’m sure.”
“That’s good news. I’m happy for you, Maureen.”
“Thanks.” I was happy for me, too, and it didn’t matter if Jasper believed me or if he was happy about it. I could support a child on my own and raise it on my own. It wasn’t how I pictured it, but few things in life were.
After leaving the doctor’s office, I texted Jasper to let him know I wouldn’t be coming in today. I needed to take some time for myself and tend to my health and well-being. I needed some me-time and some distance from Jasper, so I didn’t call Hulu to let him know my schedule for the day.
I ran errands and let my thoughts race, my mind wandering while I did mundane tasks that no one was immune from. Might as well get used to it, I told myself as I filled a shopping cart with groceries.
After I paid at the check-out counter–memo to self, save your overtime for feeding your baby–I refilled my prenatal prescription at the pharmacy and picked up something the doctor promised would help with the nausea.
Suddenly, I felt like those soccer moms I saw in the burbs of Vegas and all around Glitz, looking fabulous and running errands.
Yes! I can do this!
If I wasn’t dead on my feet, I might have stopped at the new boutique that had just opened up for another little black dress because, let’s face it, a girl could never have too many LBD’s, even if I wouldn’t be able to wear it for a while. But that would have to wait, at least until after I had a nap.
I grew more tired with every step, and the Emerald Isle entrance seemed farther away, my condo on the top floor almost out of reach. Maybe it was the small act of carrying groceries, something I rarely did because every store in town delivered. Maybe it was the weight of this pregnancy and my future, or maybe the lack of sleep, but the slog to get home seemed like a climb to the top of Mt. Everest.
“Hey! Yo!”
I was definitely exhausted because I never turned when men hollered vaguely at me. It was asking for trouble.
Still, too tired to resist, I turned without thinking and was greeted with a big meaty fist flying at my face at one hundred miles per hour. All at once, the groceries fell to the ground, and my knees buckled at the force of the hit.
“Son of a bitch!” My cheek stung, and I was pretty sure the skin had split open.
“You work at Midnight Mass, bitch?”
I nodded and looked up to see what piece of shit dared to attack me in broad daylight, but my left eye was already starting to swell, and blood was spilling down my cheek.
“I wait tables there most nights.” Was this one of those freaks I’d rejected recently?
“You’re their little fuck toy, ain’t you? The one all those Ashby motherfuckers use as a come dumpster?”
He let out a disgusted laugh, and I looked up again, trying to ID the big man who hit women. Pregnant women.
“I heard all three brothers fuck you at once. That true?”
He laughed like this was a fucking movie and he was the misunderstood villain, but I knew better. He was a piece of shit. He was also lucky that all I could think about was my baby.
“I’m just a waitress.”
“Bullshit,” he growled and kicked my chest with enough force to send me crashing to the concrete.
My head hit the pavement hard enough to blur my vision.
“It’s true,” I choked out, barely able to breathe due to the size twelve—at least—that tried to interrupt my heartbeat.
“A whore and a liar. No wonder the Ashby bitches like you so much.”
His deep laughter sounded behind me as I got on my knees and attempted to crawl away from the danger.
“Stop!” I yelled when his hand grabbed a handful of hair and yanked me backward. The move reminded me of the few times I’d been brave enough to try to escape as a little girl.
Crawling away, running away, hiding. None of it ever worked. Never saved me from a hard, sweaty fuck with dear old Dad.
“Stop!”
“In a minute,” he growled and dragged me across the pavement, small pieces of debris embedded in my skin.
“Just give Jasper Ashby a message for me.”
Before he gave me the message, the man let me go, and I fell to the pavement, taking the opportunity to crawl away. I looked up to see what was going on. Was he going for a weapon to mutilate or murder me? Or worse?
No, there was a sound of bone cracking against bone and through my one good eye that had filled with tears, I could see two figures fighting.