The Rising by Jodi Ellen Malpas EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas
- Language: English
- Formats: PDF / EPUB
- Status: Available for Download
- Genre: Romantic Suspense
- Price: Free
- File Size: 2 MB
I’d rather be dead. It’s got to beat constantly dodging death, and the many
men out there who want to put an end to me aren’t the only ones I need to be
wary of. I’m more concerned about what my wife is capable of.
I look up at our villa as I exhale and drop my arse to the sand, fucking
exhausted. Exhausted of running. Exhausted of fighting with Rose. Plain
fucking exhausted. I grab the bottle of Scotch and swig some more—it’s
probably unwise, I need my wits about me while my wife is on the war path,
need the ability to duck speedily—but . . . fuck it. Let her at me. Like I said,
I’m too exhausted to fight, and the weightless sensation coming over me is a
I fall to my back on the sand and stare at the black, twinkling sky, taking
another drag of my cigarette and another glug of Scotch, spilling some of it
over my face as I do. For fuck’s sake. It was such a lovely evening—my little
boxing match with Otto aside.
What the fuck’s with that, anyway? Him? My
mother? I snort, sucking back another hit of nicotine, followed quickly with
another shot of the hard stuff. “Not fucking happening,” I say to the sky.
“Over my dead body.” Which might be a distinct possibility if Rose gets her
hands on me.
I lift my head a fraction, looking back up at the villa. I hope Mum’s
managed to reason with her because I certainly couldn’t. In fact, I was like a
red flag to a bull. I left the room on numerous occasions to let her calm the
fuck down, and the moment I entered again, hearing she’d quietened, she’d
flown at me, either with words or deranged, flailing, desperate arms.
restrained her more than once, since I couldn’t fuck her into submission with
my mother and Otto there. So in the end, I forced myself to leave the house
before she did any damage to herself or our baby. I feel like a man on the
edge of heaven and hell, and some unknown fucker out there will dictate
which way I fall.
My wife might save him a job soon, though. And yet, I can’t be angry
with her. Can’t be pissed off. I can’t blame her for flying off the handle. For
throwing the vase at the wall. She’s pregnant and her emotions are all over
Next to that, I’ve promised that woman peace and failed to deliver
it one too many times. I feel fucking hopeless. Useless. I know my wife better
than anyone, and when she feels threatened, she fights. And as always, I’ll let
her take her anger out on me.
I flick my cigarette away and finish the bottle, dropping it clumsily to the
sand. The sky’s starting to spin. My thoughts are getting all tangled, telling
me to go back to her. Deal with this mess. But I’m pretty sure she screamed
clear instructions to never go back.
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