Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 50311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 252(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 252(@200wpm)___ 201(@250wpm)___ 168(@300wpm)
I press my hand to the glass, cool and smooth beneath my palm, and make a promise to myself. One step at a time. One breath at a time. I will build a life here. I will take the chances offered. I will let myself be loved.
Tomorrow, I’ll sign up for the GED program. Maybe after that, classes. Maybe after that, art. The path is foggy, uncertain, but it’s mine. For the first time ever, I’m not afraid of the unknown.
I turn away from the window, drawn by the soft, steady heartbeat of the house. I slide back into bed, the sheets warm from where Little Foot waited for me. He pulls me close without waking, his arms strong and sure around me. I bury my face in his chest, breathing him in, letting myself believe that this is what home feels like.
As I drift toward sleep, I think about the future. About quiet mornings, and golden evenings, and the slow, steady healing that happens when you let yourself belong. For the first time, my story feels like it’s just beginning.
And this time, I get to write the ending.
TEN
DREW
Trouble doesn’t ask permission
.
Trouble is never polite.
It doesn’t ask permission. It doesn’t knock. Never waits for an invitation. It just barrels through your front door and dares you to stand up, bare your teeth, and see who flinches first. It doesn’t care if you’re ready. Doesn’t care if you’re happy. All it cares about is the mess it leaves behind.
And this morning, trouble’s parked right where it wants to be—dead center of my world, in the shape of a black SUV parked in front of the clubhouse steps. A chrome glare cuts across the hood, sunlight bouncing into my eyes as I step out of the garage. Even from here, I know who it is. Only one man is stupid enough to come back here like this.
Frankie.
He’s back.
It’s like seeing the ghost of a nightmare you thought you’d already killed and buried in the swamp. My gut tightens, hands clench by my side. All the talk with Rex about the new supplier, about club business, falls away. It’s all noise now, like radio static when the world’s on fire.
“Little Foot,” Rex barks from under the hood, voice sharp, but I’m already moving.
“I got it,” I say, voice low and steady.
Every step across the gravel feels heavier. Cambria’s at the laundry shed, folding sheets with Yesnia for that hotel contract we have from this new laundromat business we are trying.. She hasn’t seen him yet.
Good. I plan to keep it that way.
I walk slow, hands loose at my sides, rolling my neck to ease out the tension. I look calm, but inside every muscle’s wound tight, every nerve on edge. The SUV door swings open, and there he is—Frankie, all snake-smile and cheap cologne, stepping out like he owns the damn place.
He grins. “Morning, sunshine.”
“You’re a bold son of a bitch,” I reply. My voice is flat, no heat, but he knows the threat is there.
“I’m a man of business.” He flashes a folder—thin, yellow, sealed. It looks like it belongs in a courthouse or a trash can.
“You got no business here, motherfucker.”
Frankie holds up the folder, gives it a shake. “Just came to drop off a little something. Cambria’s history. Thought you’d want to see what she’s hiding.”
I don’t flinch. Not outwardly. But inside, everything knots up. My mind races. What the hell is in there? I’ve spent weeks learning Cambria through her words and in her unspoken mannerisms.. I know she’s running from something, but I never needed to know the details. Not like this.
“You think I don’t know where she came from?”
Frankie tilts his head. “You think she told you everything?” His voice is oily, persuasive. “Come on, man. Girls like that? They lie because they have to.”
“I don’t give a fuck about a lie.” I keep my eyes on him. I mean it. People lie to survive. That’s not a crime in my book. I have lied before and will do it again. If I have to do it for my family, I will without hesitation.
He laughs. “Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”
I step forward, making sure I block his view of the clubhouse, the women behind me, anything he could use to his advantage. “Only warning and pass you’re gonna get. You get in that fancy-ass SUV. You leave. And if you show your face here again, I won’t be talking.”
He raises his eyebrows, pretending to be amused. “You threatenin’ me?”
“I’m promising you. Since you’re the dumbass who brought this to my front door. Shoulda kept your ass in Arkansas.”
He glances over my shoulder, scanning for Cambria. He catches a glimpse—she’s just stepped out with Yesnia. I see Yesnia’s eyes go hard, and she turns Cambria, leads her straight back the way they came. Good woman.