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)
“She’s gone?” he asks me.
I wipe the tears away and take a steadying breath. When I lick my lips, the salt coats the tip of my tongue. It’s only then that I come back to the moment, to what I can change. To what I can prevent.
“Her death affected me very deeply because it reminded me of-” I hesitate and swallow before I say, “Jay.”
John shifts uncomfortably in the steel chair and the metal legs scratch the floor. “Because his father abused him?” he asks.
I’m careful about answering, but I decide to ask, “What do you know about what he did?”
John glances at the red light for a moment, as if distracted by it before looking back at me. “Jay has told me a lot,” John answers with a tone that tells me he’s uncomfortable.
“Did he tell you his father liked to see how much pain Jay could take before screaming for his dead mother?” The words slip out of me like a void. The brutality and tragedy seeming cold as ice on my lips. I look up into John’s eyes as I explain, “It wasn’t good enough unless his father believed it was genuine.” He tortured him in so many ways. As if it were a game and he was simply trying to find the best tool that was most effective. But nothing ever would be. He would never win; he’d never be content.
“Is that what Marie’s father did?” John asks, forcing my gaze back to him. To the present. To being in a basement twenty years later, brought back by the one boy I wish I could have saved.
If only I’d known.
“Yes, but that’s not why she reminded me of Jay. When I left both of them, I knew they were going to their deaths.” My composure crumbles as I state the words as a fact. Because it’s so true.
I left Jay, and Marie left me. “Maybe I never deserved to help her,” I croak out. Maybe if she’d been in someone else’s care, she’d still be alive. That’s the thought that keeps me up at night. The thought that made me down an entire bottle of pills in the hopes of ending my own life.
“I’m so sorry that you lost Marie, Robin,” John says with such sympathy as he leans forward that it breaks me. “It’s not your fault,” he tells me as if it’s a truth.
“I knew and I couldn’t do anything. And when I left Jay-” My throat closes and refuses to let me take in a breath. My upper body collapses, and I hug my legs close.
Watching her walk away from me was every bit the same as when Jay turned his back on me in the field. He pushed me forward and said he’d stay behind for only a minute, but I knew it.
I knew it would be the last time.
And I still ran.
Marie never gave me the choice.
“Hush,” I hear John say at the same time as I hear the bed creak with movement. I focus on calming myself as John rests a large hand on my back and slowly moves it up and down my back in soothing strokes.
His touch makes everything seem like it really will be okay. Like it’s not my fault.
“It’s alright,” he whispers quietly into my ear. I creep closer to him, taking a chance to reach out and grab onto his other arm. And he lets me, he easily scoops me up and puts me in his lap. His arms wrap around me like they belong there, and it soothes something deep inside of me to be held by him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers and his hot breath sends a chill from my left shoulder all the way down my body. I let out a gentle moan and desire stirs between my legs. I just want to feel something other than this.
With him.
“Could you hold me close and stay with me?” I whisper my plea. Always afraid of being denied. “Please,” I beg him when he doesn’t answer immediately.
My heart stutters and flips as John slides me off his lap and leaves me. I nearly cling to him, I almost reach up to do just that, to grip onto his shirt and beg him to give me another chance, but I know better.
I watch as he walks to the door, leaving me breathing heavily and alone as the sound of it opening and then shutting again signals he's really gone.
My body trembles as I stare at the comforter, rocking on my own and focusing on the one loose thread. When a click fills the silent room and the door slowly opens, I chance a look up.
“Jay,” I say and swallow thickly. I'm only slightly relieved when he nods at me. I close my eyes and let the wave of gratitude take over.