Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Once she was awake, I’d been determined to give her whatever she needed to be okay emotionally. A punching bag? Of course. I’d deserved every bit of it. A shoulder to lean on. No question. A third wheel while she and her brother watched bad movies and talked about things I had no reference for? Any time.
Then we’d found Zeke’s files, and I’d been distracted by those. They were a tangible thing that I could work on. Another step closer to keeping Lucy safe indefinitely. If we could find out for sure who was funding the operation, we could take it out at the knees.
Follow the money. Follow the money. Follow the money.
It wasn’t until we’d stepped away from it all, and I’d watched her scampering through the woods, smiling and healthy, that the wave of guilt finally hit me.
It sat solid and unyielding in my chest. Too heavy to carry. Too big to ignore anymore.
“Oh Gods,” I mumbled, staring at her beautiful face. The freckle on her cheek. The big brown eyes and straight nose that curved up a little at the end. The plump lips that had started to tremble as she stared back at me.
I could’ve lost her.
“Ambrose, what?” she whispered.
“I am so sorry,” I choked out. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“For what?” she asked, trying to shake her head. “You’re scaring me.”
“I wasn’t here to protect you,” I ground out, my hands tightening on her face. “I abandoned you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I did. I fucking left, and I was too far away to get back to you.”
“Stop,” she pleaded. “Just stop.”
“We came as fast as we could,” I continued. “I swear. Danny went twice the speed limit, but it didn’t matter. I was trying to get back to you. Did you know I was coming?”
At some point, I’d started to cry, and I couldn’t seem to stop. I blinked hard, trying to clear my eyes as her face grew blurry.
“Of course I knew,” she said softly, reaching out to slide her hand around the back of my neck.
“I got back as fast as I could,” I repeated. “I tried.”
“I knew you were on your way.”
“It took so fucking long to get home,” I ground out. “And you were here waiting, and I didn’t come.”
“You did,” she argued. “You got here.”
“I was too late. You waited for me to come, and I was too late.”
“Stop,” she cried softly, pressing her hand on top of mine on her cheek. “Stop it. Where is this coming from?” She turned her head and kissed my palm. “Baby, you came for me. I know that. I always knew you were coming.”
“It happened again,” I rasped, staring into her eyes. “It happened again, and it was my fault this time.”
“Ambrose, let’s go inside,” she said, her hand on my cheek, my neck, my shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on. What happened again?”
“He waited,” I explained, my words tumbling over each other. “I know he waited for us to come get him. He knew we’d come for him. He was sure of it. I know he was sure of it, and we didn’t.”
“Oh,” Lucy breathed, her eyes filling with tears.
“I held him first,” I continued, the words so fast that they were barely understandable. “My father caught him. He was so small. And he was covered in all this gross shit, and he went to hand him to my mom but she said no. She said, ‘Give him to Ulf. Ulf should hold him first.’ So I did. And he weighed less than my father’s axe. He was so small and wiggly, and he was crying, and she said, ‘Don’t forget to protect his neck.’”
Pulling away from her, I turned and vomited onto the ground.
I braced my hands on my knees as I heaved over and over again.
Protect his neck, Ulf.
Moments later, Lucy’s hand landed on my back, and she rubbed it in a slow circle.
It took a few minutes before I was able to stand up straight again. Using the bottom of my shirt, I cleaned off my face before turning to back toward her.
“Let’s go inside,” she said quietly, reaching for my hand.
The silence was deafening as I followed her back to the house. I couldn’t get my head straight. The pressure was so intense, I felt like I was about to implode. I’d messed up too badly. I wasn’t sure how she could ever trust me again.
I still had no idea how my parents had ever forgiven me.
When we reached the kitchen, Lucy pulled me to a stop.
I lifted my head to find my father leaning against the counter.
He opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again, dropping his head. When he raised it again to look at me, my throat tightened.
“It’s not your fault,” he finally said. “You’re not all-seeing, Ulf.”