Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 179812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 899(@200wpm)___ 719(@250wpm)___ 599(@300wpm)
I have to swallow down my words then.
Because in a flash, he’s out of my puny hold. He’s extricated himself from the tangled web of our limbs and stepped back. Not only that, he’s already turned around and is now striding away from me before I can catch my breath. Before I can even begin to comprehend what happened. But then I don’t really have to think too hard about it, do I? I know what happened. I know what he’s doing. I even know where he’s going.
I can guess.
So I take off after him. It’s the testament to his tall body and lunging steps, his determination to get where he’s going, that I actually have to run quite a distance across the lawn to catch up to him. Although I do more than catch up, I crash into his body from the back because I know there’s no hope for me to stop him otherwise. Not that I’m really able to tackle him to the ground or anything. All I could do was run into him really fast, hurt my shoulder and make him stumble a couple of steps forward.
But at least he’s slowed down some. Which means I can quickly round him and before he can stop me, I climb his body.
I literally climb it and wind my thighs around his slim hips and my arms around his neck. And I don’t know whether to thank God or curse at Him that the night is bright enough for me to see his face, but I can read every single emotion on it. Every single thing he’s feeling right now, I can see and sense. Rage, fury, pain, disbelief, violence. Murder. His need for blood. I can see it all and throw myself at him.
I hug him. Tightly. With all my might.
And chant no. I keep chanting it. No, no, no, no, nononono. Until that’s the only thing I hear and I hope he does too. More than that, I hope he listens and he stops. But of course, that would be too easy because his arms—that had come to wrap themselves around my body—flex and squeeze, and he says in the softest voice possible. “Let go of me.”
I hug him tighter and shake my head. “No. No, no, no. I won’t. I won’t. Because you’re not going. You’re not going anywhere.”
His chest shudders. “Let me go.”
“No, I won’t let you go. I’ll never ever let you go.” To emphasize, I climb even higher on his body, hold him even tighter. “You’re not going to see your father. That’s where you’re going, aren’t you?” His body shudders again, confirming my suspicion. “You’re going to do something to him. I know it. I know. But I won’t let you do anything. I won’t let you—”
His hand creeps up and fists my hair, his voice still low and soft but now with a hint of gravel. “Let me the fuck go, Jupiter.”
I squeeze my thighs around his waist and fist his hair too. “No, I’m not Jupiter. Don’t call me that. You called me by my name that night too, at the club and I hated it. I’m your Little Strawberry and I’m not letting you destroy something you’ve worked so hard to build. You’re leaving tomorrow. You’re going to have the best season of your life. I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of that. Not even you. I’m not letting your asshole father take more from you than he already has, okay? He won’t win. He—”
His fist tightens in my hair as he speaks. “I didn’t sleep.”
“What?”
“The night he left us,” he says. I’ve had my eyes closed so far, but at his words, they snap open and the night comes back into view as he continues, “Mom told us he’d left after we got back from school. She was devastated. Could barely hold herself up. Callie was just born; she was crying, wailing. Stellan took her. Conrad sent Mom upstairs. I got started on dinner. In all that confusion, we lost track of Ledger. Apparently, he’d run away to the playground and Con had to drag him back home. It was a mess. All of us were a mess. But somehow, we all went to sleep. I couldn’t though. I couldn’t sleep. I had this…” His chest shudders again, his breath hitches. “This rage inside of me. I wanted to… I wanted to hunt him down, and then beat the shit out of him. I wanted to…” Another shudder and a hitch. “So I stayed up all night and I played soccer. I practiced my free kicks. And I practiced and I practiced until I twisted my ankle.”
I gasp and try to break out of his hold.
But he keeps me where I am, wrapped around him in the world’s tightest hug. And I realize maybe he needs it. He needs my arms, my soft body, my hard hug to be able to do this. Make his confession. So I keep holding him.