Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
A drunken and delirious Henry blocks the front door, but these days he’s so far gone with his alcoholism, he barely scares me. Jaundiced and bruised, eyes bloodshot, yellow teeth, and I know he has brittle bones. I could probably hurt him if I wanted to. I yank the giant front doors open, and Henry gets out of my way.
Heath screams my name once more when I’m halfway down the path. I won’t go back for him—there is no ‘us’ anymore.
Instead, I run through the dunes in Wainscott Hollow as fast as my legs will carry me, kicking up sand and falling a few times but never letting it hamper me.
Back to my abuser, to my monster of a husband who I know doesn’t deserve me. Eddie was my one-way ticket away from Henry, and no matter how horrible he is to me, he’s still better than my brother. My prison is beautiful, and my abuser even more so. From the outside, we look like the perfect couple. Yet I’m so broken inside I can barely get through each day. I thought Heath’s return would be imminent, but I didn’t expect him to storm back into my life like a tsunami. I knew he’d blame me, but I didn’t expect him to hate me.
“Where the fuck were you?” Eddie demands when I slam the door behind me.
The ocean breeze has whipped my hair into a wild nest, and my clothes are more than disheveled. Blood drips down my leg from a scratch where it got caught on a bramble.
Eddie’s drinking red wine out of a large, stemmed crystal glass. His lips are blood red, and his eyes narrow in fury as he takes me in. His glassy stare tells me he’s drunk.
“I’m going to bed,” is all I can manage to say.
I stalk past him toward the staircase and wish I had some comfort in my own home, my own bed, but none of it gives an ounce of reassurance. Only the dunes serve as a place of solace to me, a respite from my doomed existence. In my home, I’m weak prey, the losing team in a game I don’t want to play.
“I’m taking a sleeping pill because I have a headache,” I shout down the stairs to my husband.
Only one of those statements is true. I cannot, in any way, shape, or form, deal with Eddie and his bullshit tonight. Nor can I replay over and over what happened with Heath, which is exactly what I’ll do if given the opportunity. I want to block out the world and succumb to unconsciousness because it’s all I can handle right now.
I fall asleep to the faint tinkling of glasses as Eddie drinks himself into a stupor, and the hushed roar of the waves through the open door of my balcony. The wind blows the white curtains into billowing ghosts as my eyelids grow heavy and my heartbeat slows. I drift into oblivion with Heath’s scent lingering on my goose-pimpled skin.
CHAPTER 17
Heath
She’s not going back to him. The times I stood by and let life happen to me are long gone. I fucked up. I know it. I could have been the knight on that white horse saving the princess from the villain, but the reality is, I’m just as much a villain to her. I left her in the hands of these depraved sickos. She’s the very air I breathe, and as much as Kat is destructive to me and I to her, we’re also each other's salvation.
But all of that ends now. I’m back and I didn’t come here to fuck around.
I grab the shovel that’s sitting in the Lind garden and barrel toward the house. I’m coming to rescue my princess, even if she doesn’t want me to. As soon as the thought hits my mind, I wipe it away because it doesn’t matter if Kat wants me or not. I’m taking her. Bloodied hands and bruised heart, she will be mine.
The door handle clicks and flies open. Eddie’s walking back and forth in a haze. The fucker is drunk and pathetic like Henry. But that’s what happens to men who love Katelyn Shaw. They dive into the abyss of obsession and despair. Katelyn is like a rainbow—from the outside, she looks vibrant and full of life, so tempting to touch, but when you try to catch her, she’s ephemeral and impossible to hold on to.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Eddie slurs. He stumbles as he takes a reactionary step toward me. His formerly aristocratic face now looks like Frankenstein’s with one whole cheek covered in stitches over a blood-red line.
“I’m here to take back what’s mine.”
“Get the fuck out. You’re lucky I didn’t have you arrested for your stunt on the beach. No one wants trash like you here. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”