Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 43102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Suddenly, there’s a knock on my door, and I groan.
“Go away,” I mutter into the pillow. But then there’s another knock, so I pull myself out of bed and trudge my way to the door.
But it’s not one or both of my guys standing there, much to my dismay.
I mean, much to my delight.
Yeah, that’s it.
“I have a bunch of stuff for you, and didn’t want to leave it on the step,” the delivery guy says.
“What kind of stuff?” I squint at the kid. “Wait, I know you. How’s it going, Jake?”
Jake Wild grins at me. God, he’s adorable. He’s going to break hearts everywhere someday. He likely already does.
He shrugs. “Boxes. If you prop the door open, I’ll set them inside.”
“Knock yourself out, friend.”
If he’s doing the heavy lifting and setting the boxes inside for me, he’s my friend.
Five minutes later, I’m standing in the middle of my living room staring at about six big boxes and reach for a box cutter, tearing into the first one.
“A fan,” I murmur to myself and sit back on my haunches.
But this isn’t just any fan. It’s the kind that fits in the windows of this apartment, so it won’t fall out, and I can pull the cool night air in.
Opening the next box, I pull out another fan, but this is one that goes on the table top, and it says I can put cold water in it and it’s a portable AC unit.
Well, shit. My lower lip trembles as I open the next box and find a cooling blanket, a cooling pillow, and a bag of gummy bears.
Because they’re my favorite.
There’s another window fan for the opposite wall, and then, when I open the last box, I can’t stop the tears that fall.
Because it’s a picture frame. With a photo of the three of us out on the boat in it.
Which means this wasn’t ordered from Amazon and delivered by UPS.
They hired Jake Wild to bring me all of this stuff so I could still have my space, but they could also take care of me.
“Dammit.” I shake my head and reach for my phone, which I left on the table by the door all night, and turn it on.
I’m not surprised to find ten missed texts and two calls.
The calls were from Dani, and eight of the texts were either Dani, Charlie, or Billie.
But the other two texts were my guys in our group chat.
Gabe: You’d better be eating, Shorty. Just let me know if you want me to swing by the store or order takeout for you. *heart*
“Fucking hell.” I’m sobbing now and sniff loudly, wiping the water off my cheeks. I have to wait a second to read Adam’s text because it’s too blurry.
Finally, I take a breath and look down at the screen.
Adam: I miss you, Princess.
As I’m sitting here looking at the screen, another text comes in from Adam, and it’s a selfie of the two of them, both looking somber into the lens.
Is this manipulation? Or do they really just miss me?
Do I care?
I make the photo bigger and take in every bit of them, wishing I could hug them. Apologize. Tell them that I love them.
God, I want to tell them that I love them.
“Why am I so broken?” I yell into the empty apartment.
No answer comes.
After putting the fans in the windows and the small one on the bedside table with the cool mist spraying on me, I went back to bed and slept all freaking night. I slept hard.
And I had fucking nightmares.
It’s not unusual for me to have bad dreams. I don’t dream well. I don’t think I’ve ever had a dream that wasn’t fucked up in so many ways.
There are degrees to the horror of what goes through my mind at night.
And last night was the worst of them. I’ve had it often, and it never changes.
My father.
My sisters, screaming for help, locked on the other side of a door.
The door giving way, and finding all three of them torn apart by the wolf standing in the middle of the room. Bloody teeth, angry eyes.
And my father, laughing. Laughing so hard, he’s doubled over, taking great joy in what he’s orchestrated.
“I’m so tired of being afraid of you.”
When I wake, I’m always sweating profusely, and I’ll be unsettled for the rest of the day.
I check my phone to see the time and find a text from Adam.
First of all, it’s almost noon. I slept for-freaking-ever. I’ve never slept this much in my life. I’m not doing any thinking over here. I’m putting myself into a coma.
And second of all, I really need a shower.
But first, I open the text from Adam.
Adam: Left you something outside your door, my love.
My love.
How can he say that to me after the way I just up and left them the other day? Why aren’t they yelling at me? Telling me that I’m a waste of time? That they can find something better with someone who won’t run away.