Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"Oh God," she says when she looks past me toward the piece of shit who thought he could come in here and terrorize her.
The knowledge of the note, making his intentions clear, makes my skin crawl. If she weren't beside me, I'd go kick the guy in the fucking face.
"Don't look. Let's get some things so we can get out of here."
I press my palm to her back and guide her out of the living room and down the short hallway to her bedroom.
She seems entranced and locked into place when we step into her room, and for the life of me I wish there was some way to pull this experience from her mind, some way to shoulder the burden of it all myself.
"I don't know why I can't stand for people to touch me," she says, her voice distant as she stares off into space.
"We don't have to discuss that right now," I tell her, but I don't continue when she shakes her head.
"You're different," she says, turning to face me. "You're different."
I pull her to me once again when her sobs are renewed, holding her in the middle of her bedroom. If I could close us in here and lock us away from the world for the rest of eternity, I think I would do anything in my power to make that happen. Without the problems of everyday life and no threats of harm to either one of us, I think I could spend the rest of my life just like this with her in my arms.
Knowing that isn't possible or if it would be something she'd be interested in, I take a step back, holding her shoulders at arm's length.
"Let's pack a bag," I say. "We can talk about this after we get back to the cabin."
She dips her head, swiping at tears on her cheeks only for them to once again be replaced.
But instead of getting lost in her own thoughts again, she moves to the closet, pulling a small suitcase out and unzipping it before placing it on the bed.
I stand to the side, not happy when she starts to pack a single change of clothes. I step in behind her, pulling out the larger suitcase that matches the one she selected, and begin filling it with more clothes when she heads into the bathroom to grab her personal hygiene stuff.
She frowns when she steps out of the bathroom with her bottle of shampoo and conditioner in her hands.
"What are you doing?"
"Making sure you have enough," I say, pulling the bottles from her grasp. "Anything else?"
"Is there anything left?" she asks, looking at the over-stuffed suitcase.
I don't bother answering her question before zipping up both suitcases.
"Can someone get the dog food and bowl?" I ask, knowing others are still on the mic. "I'll grab the bed."
I get an affirmative as I reach out for Caitlyn's hand.
"Ready?"
She swallows, looking like she's going to refuse, but instead, she drops her palm into mine.
"We're going to go down the hall and straight for the door. There's no reason for you to even look back, okay?"
"Okay," she answers, surprising me when she does exactly as I've suggested, making it to the waiting SUV of her own accord.
I help her into the back seat of one of the SUVs, put her suitcases in the back, and then climb in beside her.
At this point, I don't even give a fuck about my bike. Someone will either see that it makes it back to the cabin, or it can stay here until I'm comfortable enough to leave her side so I can come get it.
Lark pulls open the driver's side door and takes a quick glance at the two of us before dropping into the driver's seat.
"They're going to want to talk to her," he says as he puts the vehicle in gear.
"I'll make arrangements for them to come to the house tomorrow," Hemlock says, his voice startling me through the mic still in my ear. "Jersey, we have shit to discuss. You might want to pull your mic."
I reach up and yank the thing from my ear. I'm not afraid I'll miss anything. Casper is great with his dossiers when we debrief, and I know every single piece of information will be included when he's done with it.
Lark holds his right hand over his shoulder, and I drop the tiny piece of equipment into his waiting palm.
"Thanks, man," I mutter before looking back at Caitlyn.
She's watching out the window, and she seems damn near catatonic, and I hate that there isn't much I can do for her except be here as she works through all of this shit.
"Do we need the hospital?" Lark asks when he pulls up to a four-way stop.
"No," she whispers. "He didn't hurt me."
I know that's not exactly true. There are more painful traumas than anything physical could ever cause.