Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Her hand shakes just over my chest. So close I can already feel the heat from her. I brace myself for it. For her touch. I want it more than anything. I want to feel her fingertips run along my scars and not cause me pain and shame.
If ever someone could do it, it would be her. I halt my breathing as she rests her middle finger along the dip in my throat and then slowly lowers it, trailing down the faint silver of a small scar. It’s not the worst of them.
I wish I knew what they were from. I wish I still had the memories of what it was that left each of them. But there were so many, and time confuses things. The one on my leg was from the dog. The largest of the three. The one who almost killed me. That’s the only scar I can place in my past. The rest are merely a summary of what my father gave me.
I grip her wrist out of instinct when she moves lower. She stays still, waiting for me. “I think that’s enough for now, little bird,” I say with my eyes closed and then look down at her.
“Jay, I promise I’ll stay.” Her voice is pleading but also sincere. I don’t like her tone though. I gave her what she wanted, so she needs to give me what I want in return. “I promise I’ll stay with you and beside you, and that I want what you want. I promise you,” she pleads with me, and I already know what she’s going to say.
“Just come with me to get help.”
I stare into her hazel eyes as they gloss over with unshed tears.
Help. She is my help. She is the reason I’m like this. My breathing gets heavy as I resist the urge to snap.
Leave? No. We’re only getting started.
She left me once, and she’ll do it again. There’s a sorcery about her, something that distracts me from the reality. Something that makes me feel as though just caring for her will be enough to heal all wounds. I bend down, picking up my shirt and put it on quickly, covering the scars from her view.
“Get a bath,” I tell her and turn my back to her, opening the bathroom door and feeling the gush of cold air flood the room. “Don’t make me regret leaving you alone.”
Chapter 14
Robin
It’s so quiet. Every small movement is accompanied by the sounds of the blanket shifting. There’s not the faintest noise except the ones I create.
A little while ago the air conditioner kicked on, and it was heaven. A bit of white noise to drown out the silence. But the break was short-lived, so instead, I lie here in silence.
I turn over onto my side and pick at the threads on the comforter. They're small and so easily pulled.
I close my eyes and the vision of the basement flashes before my eyes. It was quiet then, too. But at least I had the steady sounds of Jay behind me. My throat feels tight as I swallow and try to calm myself down.
I think of the city noise and focus on it. So many nights it’s kept me from this very nightmare. It’s not so loud that it keeps me up or disturbs my sleep. But it’s loud enough to keep me from going back there in my mind.
I grit my teeth and think of how he could hold me now. If he wanted to, he could be in here. I could sleep again.
The thought of falling into the depths of a dream with him makes my body move on its own. I throw back the heavy comforter and move from the bed with purposeful strides but hesitate at the door, my heart beating harder and my confidence waning by the second.
I swallow thickly, my heart beating slowly as fear creeps up and nearly stops me. But how many nights have I prayed to be close to him? How many nights have I wanted him to hold me? And he’s so close. I only have to ask.
My heart aches in my chest as I remember how he’d whisper it. If you need me, just ask.
I need him. God, do I need him.
The lump seems to stop in my throat mid-swallow as I grip the doorknob and open it slowly. It doesn’t escape me that there’s no lock. Just like the bathroom. None to force me to stay in the room, and none to keep Jay out.
The door’s silent, which is a blessing and a curse.
I don’t want Jay to think I’m leaving.
Or worse, the dog.
I peek my head out of the doorway, opening it up slowly to reveal more of the hall. The moonlight spills into the front of the hall from the window in the living room and floods it with light. So much more than what I have in the room Jay gave to me.