Travis - A Scrooged Christmas by Tracie Douglas

Author:Tracie Douglas [Douglas, Tracie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tracie Douglas
Published: 2017-12-04T06:00:00+00:00

Liv

Five days later

I’m walking out of Hannah’s room for the night when I hear a soft knock on my door.

Oh, thank goodness. I slouch against the wall, ready for this fight with Travis to be over. I don’t know what I was thinking when I came up with the idea of the music and light show. It’s driving me insane, even with my noise-cancelling headphones. I’m at my breaking point with it all. How he’s been able to deal with it every night for the last week, I wish I could find out.

I approach the door but grab the remote off the side table and tuck it into my pocket. Even though the music is driving me crazy, I’ll be damned if I let him see it. I refuse to show any weakness. I unlock the door without using the peephole, again, knowing he’s going to say something about it, and pull it open.

“This shit has got to stop,” a voice says, but instead of coming face-to-face with Travis, it’s Betty’s small frame glaring at me, covering her ears.

“Betty,” I exclaim and open my door further, welcoming her inside. She quickly crosses the threshold and closes the door with a sigh. The music coming from outside is muffled, but you can make out every word clearly. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s time for an intervention,” she grumbles, moving about my house and making her way into the kitchen. Which shouldn’t surprise me, since she used to own the house.

“An intervention?” I ask, following behind her. She opens the refrigerator and peeks her head inside.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” She looks back at me. “You got any beer?”

“Bottom shelf,” I respond and frown. “What are you talking about, Betty?”

“That damn circus show you have going on out there.”

“What about it?”

“Don’t got anything against you, girly. In fact, I admire your tenacity. The way you’re going at it with my nephew, damn, girly, I can’t wait to see you two finally give in to the shit brewing between ya.” She takes two beers out of the fridge, pops open both bottles, and hands me one.

“Betty—”

“But I need my couch back,” she interrupts, her eyes laser focused on me.

“I’m not sure where you’re going with this? What do I have to do with your couch?”

“I take it you haven’t figured out Travis isn’t home and hasn’t been all week.” She brings the longneck bottle to her lips and tips it back, takes a long pull from it, all the while watching me with the same-colored eyes I’ve been hoping to see at my doorstep every night for the past week.

“He hasn’t?” I ask, trying my hardest to sound uninterested, but I’m all over it. Mimicking her movements, I take a pull of the cold beer, attempting to swallow the lump that has formed in my throat. She smirks knowingly. Aw, fuck it. I groan and bite. “His truck is parked in the driveway.”

“You silly, naïve girl,” she chuckles and shakes her head. “He leaves his truck in the drive because he knows that’s the first thing you’ll look for.

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