Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Ugh!” I cry when he penetrates me—brands me—in the only way he knows how.
Angry.
Forceful.
Unapologetic.
The most poignant observation I’ve made over the past six months, that I failed to see over the previous thirty-one years, is that there is nothing more phenomenal than one human’s addiction to another—and there is nothing more devastating than one human’s addiction to another.
As Theo leaves his final mark on me, all I feel is this phenomenal devastation.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
My name is Scarlet Stone, and one day I will break away from the shadows of the man who raised me. Until then—I will make him proud.
Six months ago, I left Daniel with a note. We said all there was to say and by the time he woke the next morning, I was gone. The way he kissed me, the way we made love … it was goodbye and we both knew it.
Theo wasn’t supposed to leave for another day, but everything about last night was a goodbye. So, of course, next to me is an empty spot … with a note. I laugh.
“Oh … Karma.” I hug the folded note to my chest and continue to laugh through my tears.
Three Nevers
1. I’ve never been so fucking scared in my life as I was the day I laid eyes on you.
2. I never imagined loving the feel of something more than the wood and strings of my guitar, until I touched you.
3. I’ve written fifteen songs, but NEVER has any one person inspired my words.
Truth: You are my greatest song.
Theo
“Fuck!” I leap from the most pathetic excuse for a mattress and rip the tangled ugly sheet from my body.
No to space.
No to freewill.
No to respecting his need to leave.
And I’m not even sorry.
I thought I wanted Daniel to let me go. But what if I wanted him to chase me to the airport in some grand gesture of his undying love for me? What if I wanted to be his greatest song? Why wasn’t I his song?
Leggings never cooperate when you need them to. “Come … on!”
I define hideous, but there’s no time for glamour before I’m out the door.
“Sorry, sir,” I apologize to the poshly-dressed gentleman on the pavement when I bump into him, but I need his wallet. I’m going to Hell—probably on a Schwinn with a flat tire, but hell nonetheless. I’ll replace the money and post the wallet back to him when I can. That has to count for something. It takes me almost twenty minutes to find a taxi. Does everyone in this geometrically-obsessed city own a car? Where are all the bloody tourists?
I spit the address to the driver three times before he understands it. Apparently, he doesn’t think I’m speaking English. Knobhead has Theo’s honed people skills. Except, I am Theo’s song, so his complete lack of southern hospitality is forgiven. I bet Knobhead can’t hold a tune any more than he can hold in his beer belly.
“Can you hurry?”
He lifts his cap and scratches his head then repositions it as he gives me a confused look in the mirror. I roll my eyes. One of us speaks perfect English and the other is a knobhead.
I don’t have a speech, and begging may be involved, but Theo cannot leave me. It doesn’t matter what he’s facing. I will walk into the storm with him. There’s no way I can wait for another life that we’re not guaranteed, a Heaven that no one has seen, an eternity that I can’t see beyond the horizon in front of me.
Now.
We have now, and I want to share every breath of it with Theodore Reed.
“Just …” I slip a few notes from the stolen wallet. “I’m getting out here.”
“We’re almost there.” The cabbie points to the red light like it’s not his fault.
“Unlock the door!” I bang against it.
He shakes his head but the lock clicks open, so I don’t care what he thinks of me as I jump out and run toward my life.
“Theo!” The desperation in my voice earns me a few concerned looks from people on their porches and in their gardens. I’m a few streets away from the house; my call to him may be a little premature. “Theo!” Okay, I can’t stop.
His truck is gone, but he’s not. He can’t be. The door is locked. I pound my fists against it. “Theo!”
Where is he? Last night was goodbye to me, not Tybee. He’s not leaving until tomorrow. “Theo!”
Bang, bang, bang!
A hand touches my shoulder. “Theo!” I whip around ready to jump into his arms.
“Scarlet, what’s going on?”
“Nolan.” I grab his shirt and shake him because my emotions have shattered all of my control. “Where is he?”
Drawing in his eyebrows, he wraps his hands around my wrists. “He’s gone. What’s wrong?”
“Gone? Gone where?” Every word flies out of my mouth on a labored breath; each one feels like the last.