Forget Me Not (#1) Read Online Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: , Series: Forget Me Not Series by Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62543 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
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“You’re broken, Robin,” Jay says and his voice breaks my thoughts. I stare at him, his eyes never looking so cold and his voice never feeling so devoid of emotion before. But he’s right here in front of me. His jawline sharper, his shoulders broader and his body filled out.

He’s no longer a scared little boy trying to protect me. He’s become a man in every way.

“Why did you do it?” he asks me, and my blood turns to ice. I flinch as the memory comes back full force. The cold wind whipping across my face, the branches lashing out and striking me as I ran through the forest. I ran because I had no choice. Liar! a voice hisses in the back of my head. I didn’t have to leave him behind. I’m a coward. I ran because I was scared.

“Why did you try to kill yourself?” Jay asks me and my eyes lift to his, my heart still hammering in my chest.

My throat feels dry and my voice comes out hoarse, but I’m grateful I misunderstood. I’m grateful he doesn’t bring it up. I wish I could go back; I wish I could pretend I never left him. “I’m not well, but I’m-” I try to explain, but he cuts me off.

“Broken!” Jay yells at me, and for the first time real fear flows through me.

“I’m sorry I left you,” I say. The words spill from me unbidden and I cover my mouth, hating that I’ve acknowledged it. I look up to him, watching for his reaction. But I get nothing, not a word or any recognition. “Please, don’t hate me,” I whimper. I feel so small beneath him.

Maybe this is what I’ve truly wanted. For him to punish me. For him to forgive me.

His large hand pats the back of my head, a comforting touch that brings me back to the first night I met him. When I lay on the ground crying until he finally reached out to comfort me.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “This isn’t about that. It has nothing to do with how we left. It’s only about who we’ve become since then.”

“Why are you doing this?” I ask him. “You know it doesn’t have to be like this,” I say and my eyes search his, pleading and begging. “You didn’t have to do this.” My voice comes out as a hollow whisper.

“I did though,” he tells me. “You have no idea what it’s like. For me to know and be aware, and he… he doesn’t. He doesn’t see it.”

I shake my head, grabbing onto the edge of the bed and the comforter as I insist, “That’s not how this works, Jay!” I try desperately to get through to him. For him to understand. “I can’t help you like this.”

He breathes in heavy, and his eyes pierce into me for a long moment, like he’s considering what I’m telling him. But eventually he nods his head. “Yes, you can. And I can help you,” he says.

The hot tears flow freely now. “Jay, please,” I beg him. My head starts to spin, and I feel faint. This can’t be happening.

“You’re going to stay here until we can help each other. Until you forgive me, and I forgive you.”

It’s like a spike to the heart to hear him talk of forgiveness. “I never blamed you,” I say, telling him the truth. I never once blamed Jay for any of the fucked up shit that happened to us. “I hated myself for leaving you. And now-” my voice cracks realizing what he’s become and how fucked up this all is. I should never have left him.

“You need help,” I plead with him again, my voice wretched. I wipe the tears away with the back of my hand as I remember John. How he looked at me as if he’d never seen me before in his life.

“I know,” he replies and his voice is raw and his eyes go glassy, but his expression is hard. “You can help me, and I can help you.” He tilts his head, and it pains my heart.

My heart tries to leap up my throat. I feel sick as my stomach churns.

“This is your new home for a little while,” he says. My heart squeezes in my chest, and I reach up to cling to Jay’s shirt.

“Jay, no!” I cry out as he grips my hands in his and keeps me from holding onto him. I try to move toward him, to beg him to let me go. My nails scrape along his wrists. “Jay!” My pleas are useless.

“You don’t have to do this,” I urge as he backs away and I nearly fall off the bed. My eyes search frantically for the door and the moment they do; Jay squeezes my hands tighter. He squeezes hard enough so there’s pain, but for only a moment and my eyes shoot to his.


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