Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“She talked about you a lot.”
I put the photo down and turn toward him. “She did?”
“Yeah,” he says, voice low and real. “Every day. You were her person.”
My chest clenches. I pick at the hem of my shirt. “She was the only one who ever got me. Didn’t matter what I did. Like she saw all the shit and just... let it be.”
I sink to the edge of the bed, the worn photo of them staring up from the dresser. “Did you know she was working with Ralston?”
Silence. He tenses, makes a fist, releases it. “No fucking clue.”
I glance over, and his jaw’s tight, his eyes locked on the wall like he could burn a hole straight through it. “I knew she was doin’ something. She was actin’ weird, doin’ strange things, but I never thought it was that.”
I pick at the corner of the blanket. “I still don’t get it. I keep going through all the stuff, I keep thinking there’s a reason somewhere. Like she wrote it in invisible ink and if I just stare hard enough, I’ll see the answer.” I laugh, but it dries in my throat. “All I find is more questions.”
“She lied,” he says, and I can feel the hurt and anger in his voice. “She fuckin’ lied about everything.”
I turn, meeting his eyes. “That must hurt.”
My voice is soft, careful.
He doesn’t answer right away. When he does, his voice makes my chest ache because I can hear what this has done to him. “Yeah. Because I loved her. When she died, it fuckin’ destroyed me. Took so long to see any kind of light again.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, because it’s all I have.
“Sorry for what, you didn’t do it,” he mutters, his voice clipped.
I shake my head, heart ticking faster. “You know,” I say, trying to lighten the mood. “I sometimes can’t understand why she picked you, because you’re a real dick.”
He grins, and I exhale quietly, knowing I have broken the tension. “I know.”
“But then I see shit like that,” I gesture at the photo, “and I get it. She wanted someone who wouldn’t let go of her no matter what she did.”
He lets out a low breath. “You want to know what I don’t get? How someone can be so fuckin’ smart, so beautiful, and not see what she had right in front of her.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Well, bad decisions run in our family.”
We’re quiet a while, and the air in the room feels thick. Then he says, “What about you?”
I shift. “Me what?”
He looks right at me. “You ever let anyone in? Or is this little act you put on actually who you are?”
I huff. “No, I haven’t, because every single one I start to let in lets me down.”
“Maybe you just picked the wrong asshole.”
“Or maybe I am the asshole?” I joke lightly.
He grunts. “Could be. But you got good taste in whiskey, at least.”
Lightning flickers, illuminating the room. I can feel the urge in me, thickening, and I know I am walking a fine line. I can’t help myself, though, I look at him. I don’t look at the scar or the tattoos. This time I look at his mouth, and then his eyes.
He reaches out, and even though I know I should pull away, I can’t. His fingers connect with my cheek and slide down in a way that has my whole body shivering with a need I have to control. He is going to kiss me again, and if he kisses me, I am going to lay down and let him fuck me until we both forget the name Harper.
Harper.
I can’t.
I can’t be the reason he uses to try and move on. Only one person will come out of that in one piece, and it won’t be me. He will break me into a million pieces because he will never love me like he loved her, and I can’t live with that.
“Please don’t kiss me.”
My voice comes out low, whispered, and my heart is racing so hard I can feel it in my head.
“You’re makin’ that really fuckin’ hard.”
“If you kiss me, Knox, it will break us both. Please, I can’t be broken. Don’t kiss me.”
He holds my gaze for so long I wonder if he will do it anyway, but instead, he lets out a loud exhale and drops his hand. He lays back down, staring up at the ceiling, and my heart skips so many beats I’m certain I’m about to go into cardiac arrest.
“Night, sunshine,” he murmurs into the darkness.
A pain unlike anything I have ever felt floods my chest.
Hurt? Confusion? I don’t know.
“Goodnight, Knox,” I whisper.
Then I lay down and go to sleep, knowing I need to get out of this place before I do something I can’t take back.
8
Igo home the next morning because when I wake, Knox is gone. I can’t stand to be here for a second longer, so Mera takes me back to the farmhouse. She has barely been gone five minutes when I hear the front door open. I know who it is long before I see his face appear in the kitchen.