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)
None of us are.
But he shouldn’t yell at her. “He’s just angry right now, but he loves you.”
“I’m angry too,” she sobs. She’s anything but angry. She’s broken. Both of them, my two best friends, are nothing like what they used to be.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper, and when I reach out to her, she leans into my touch. At first it’s only slightly, but as the grief takes over, she falls into me.
I’m grateful to hold her, to give her this. Because I’m struggling too.
I feel us all falling apart and I don’t know how to make it right.
When I kiss the top of her head and whisper into her hair it’s going to be all right and that he loves her, I mean it, and I have to stop myself from telling her I love her too … because at this moment, I know I mean it just the same.
Present time
* * *
“I’m not here to fight you.” That’s the first thing I have to say to Cill, even if it’s not quite true. Hell, maybe we are here, in the back room of Nello’s, next to The Ruin, to fight. Maybe we’re here to have it out. I’d rather have him punch me than some asshole across from the gas station. I won’t send him to jail.
My body’s still ringing from earlier today in Kat’s kitchen, even after the nearly two hours of silent driving to get here. I think we all needed a moment of quiet and time to think. But two hours wasn’t enough. I don’t know that any amount of time will prepare me for this.
The dim lights in the back room only make Cill’s bruised cheek look worse. He’ll get over it, just like I will.
My shoulders straighten with barely contained anger as I take in a heavy breath. Although I know the anger isn’t justified, it’s still there.
I never should have touched Kat, but inside all I can think is that he never should have left us. All of it was fucked.
“I don’t want to fight you,” I tell him again. “What happened between Kat and me is long over.” As I say the words, my heart is in agony. It feels like this is it for all three of us.
I fell in love with Kat, I fell hard for her and I only wanted to love her, because I knew CIll couldn’t. It wasn’t supposed to happen like it did. I never stopped loving her, though. Just like I never stopped wanting to be the friend Cill needed either.
We were both missing him. Both broken … hell, all three of us were.
Glancing over at Kat, sitting beside Cill in the circular booth and across from me, I know she’d choose him ten out of ten times. I’m the piece that has to go for them to be together now and it’s my fault. I know that, but I can’t stand that it has to happen.
Clearing my throat, I face Cill head-on, doing what needs to be done. “You need to know what happened with the club, even if you hate me right now. I want to tell you everything I know.”
The stark white tablecloth is gently lit by the candle in the middle of the table, and a basket of bread wrapped in a white cloth napkin to keep it warm separates us.
It’s quiet back here and the waiter is more than aware that we need time to discuss business so I doubt we’ll see him again until Cill calls for him. With the location so close to The Ruin, Nello’s is used to this. They’re paid well, even if we don’t order a damn thing to eat.
I could confess everything to Cill in this room. Spill every detail and I don’t know what will happen after. I dread what will come. But it has to be done.
“What the hell happened to the club?”
“Things changed when your uncle took over.”
“You keep saying that.” Cill looks me dead in the eye. He’s wary of me now and I don’t blame him. I would be too if he fucked the love of my life without me knowing. “Tell me the truth, Reed. You owe me that.”
It’s not always best to tell the truth. Anyone who grew up at the Cavanaugh Crest knew that. Sometimes it’s best to keep your damn mouth shut. Everybody loves to talk about how honesty is the best policy, but it’s bullshit. Not saying anything is the best policy. Keeping your head down and doing what you’re told is what we’re expected to do. I wish I hadn’t, though. I wish I knew what was really going on so I could have stopped it all.
“I think your uncle …” I say and swallow thickly, knowing how this is going to sound and praying he’ll believe me, “set it up. All of it.”