Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 568(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
He recoils, shocked, and watches me yank the door of the Jaguar open. I fall into the seat and reverse out of the space fast, forcing Jude to jump out of my path on a loud curse.
“Amelia!”
I hold the hysteria tight inside me as I drive to the gates, faster than I should. Nelson is there, my luggage by the gatehouse. I stop and throw it in the boot with his help, and as soon as I’m back in my car, I let the dam break. Emotion comes over me like a tidal wave, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear them of tears so I can see the road better. Knots riddle my stomach, my body convulsing with sobs. So much pain. So much regret. So much anger and resentment.
I don’t know how I will ever get over this. I don’t know if I will ever trust again. Make myself vulnerable. Allow myself to fall in love. I hit the steering wheel with the ball of my hand on a yell. And again. And again.
And again, and again, and again, shouting past my body-racking sobs.
Ruined.
The Jaguar fills with the sound of my phone ringing. “Shut up,” I snap, glancing at the dash, seeing his name. I reject his call and frantically fiddle with the knobs, desperately trying to find some music to drown out my screaming head. Any music. “War of Hearts” by Ruelle bursts through the speakers. Not loud enough. I turn it to max, roughly wiping my nose, laughing sardonically at the fucking irony as I take a turn in the road.
I love you.
It wasn’t a lie.
I think I’m in more trouble now than I was an hour ago.
“No!” Louder.
The road becomes blurry, my head banging, my fist constantly whacking the steering wheel.
The music cuts. My phone rings.
“Fuck off!” I yell, hitting the reject button on my wheel, making the music kick back in. Louder. Another turn in the road approaches, and I barely slow into it, feeling the wheels pull, struggling to stay on the road.
The music dies again.
My phone rings.
My lips twisting, I accept. “Fuck off!” I yell, slamming my palm into the wheel again.
“Amelia, listen to me.”
I glance at my rearview mirror as another bend appears up ahead, seeing Jude’s Ferrari in the distance, a black dot on the horizon.
“I need you to slow down.”
“It was all a fucking lie,” I sob.
“Amelia, slow down.”
Why is he talking so calmly? “I fell in love with you,” I mumble. “I fell so hard. I need this pain to fuck off. I need you to fuck off.”
“And I fell in love with you too, Amelia,” he says, so gently, the roar of his engine making him even quieter. “That part wasn’t a lie.”
“Stop it!” I check my mirror again as I take the next bend. “Stop lying to me!”
“Listen to me. Please, please, I’m begging you. Just pull over and listen to me.”
“You expect my grace?” I ask, my words breaking.
“I don’t expect it. I’m begging you for it. Your grace is one of the things I adore about you. I’m depending on it. That and your heart, Amelia. Please, pull over.”
His Ferrari appears in the distance behind me again, small but there, just before I take a corner far faster than I should, snivelling, swiping at my brimming eyes angrily. “I’m not stopping for you. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I’m ov—”
“Fuck!” he roars, making me flinch, the sound of him punching the steering wheel clear down the line. “My dad killed himself, Amelia.”
I stare at the road ahead, my body suddenly still.
“He killed himself, and he made sure it was me who found him.”
“What?”
“He hung himself.”
I cough over my sob.
“I’ve spent years hiding that truth from my family, Amelia. I lied to people, made sure there were no question marks over his death. I couldn’t shatter my mother’s perfect romantic notion of what she had with him. What they’d built. I shielded her from the truth, made sure the man she loved wasn’t tarnished.”
I stare ahead at the road.
“He nearly lost everything because of shit advice from an amateur cowboy adviser.”
“Nick,” I whisper.
“He couldn’t face the shame and guilt.” Jude’s voice cracks, and he curses a few times before he continues. “Nick’s father was on the board at the bank involved. He covered up his son’s fuckup and took a massive retirement package before the institution was investigated for insider trading and gross misconduct. He died before he could be put in front of a judge, and Nick walked away scot-fucking-free. No repercussions. No consequences. He changed his name and got on with his fucking life, Amelia, while mine fell apart around me.”
My arms brace against the wheel, the road blurry as I drive, on autopilot.
“Dad killed himself, and I had to make sure no one would know so his life insurance and policies would pay out. I had to lie to everyone—my mum, my brothers, the police. I had to cut his fucking body down from the rafters in the garage and unravel the sheets from around his neck. I had to get the pills he took for his angina. Make it look like a heart attack. It’s made me so fucking heavy, Amelia. It’s made me hateful and vengeful and tired. He left me to deal with everything. Mum was my purpose, and then he took her with him too. I hated him for that. I hated him for being such a fucking coward. I’ve been angry for so long, limping through life wondering if I’ll ever feel normal and light again. I’ve been broken, pretending to be together, and every day a little bit more fell away, and it was that little bit tougher to put on an act.” His voice lowers to a rough, pained whisper. “You’ve changed everything, baby. Everything. You’ve changed me. Please, pull over.”