Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
I drive for a while, slowing to the speed limit, and rain starts hitting the windshield again as the black sky looms overhead. I see the turn for my parents’ summer camp and veer left, hitting the gravel, because I need some air. I need to stop, close my eyes.
I need to get my heart to stop pounding.
I pull deep into the woods, the empty cabins and mess hall and the dark lake and boathouse hiding in the shadows of the trees. I park under the canopy of branches and leaves, drops pounding the roof and hood.
Turning off the car, I stare at the wheel, my mind racing like it does when I’m on a girl. So many things.
I need to get back on track.
I want to go home.
I miss my parents.
I want her there too.
I need to take care of Reeves.
Because none of this feels like it’s about him anymore.
I wish I could go back to not wanting anyone.
Wanting someone is worse.
But I don’t want anyone else to touch me.
She’s the only one allowed to lay a hand on me.
I love her…looking at me.
Realization hits. None of this is about Green Street or Reeves anymore. She’s everything.
I need some air. I just need to breathe, and then I’ll get my goddamn life back, and I’ll get ready for school like I should be doing.
Opening the door, I climb out of the car, taking off my jacket and tossing it inside. I slam the door and fall back against it, closing my eyes and letting the rain cool me off.
I don’t know why I came here. I just didn’t want the cops to catch us, and I’m afraid of what will happen if we go back to the hideout. I want to fight, and I know I’ll instigate one if we’re alone down there.
How easy it was for her to choose them, like she’s theirs and not mine, and I just need to cool down, because I’m fucking crazy angry, and I’ll make it worse if I look at her anymore.
Water trails down my neck, the new tattoo stinging, and I feel my T-shirt start to melt to my skin.
I inhale and exhale. She chose them.
But deep down I know. She chose her family. Her brother and her sister, as she should.
Her life is the opposite of mine. All she’s learned is that she’s the only one she can count on. Asking anyone for help is too much of a gamble, and asking me would hurt. She believes she’s a burden. She’ll never ask me for anything.
My arms hang like weights at my side, my body tired now that the anger is gone.
I climb back into the car, water dripping off my face and arms, and she still sits there, quiet. I don’t think she’s moved at all.
“My mom and dad have the kids,” I tell her.
I look down, but I see her turn toward me out of the corner of my eye. “What?” she says.
I don’t want to argue. I just want her to know they’re safe.
“I talked to them on my way to the tattoo shop,” I mumble. “They went with an officer. Your mom wasn’t there, so they’re staying at my house until she can be found.”
Aro might get mad law enforcement is aware of their situation, but if she’s smart, she’ll know it’s better to have them with my family than taking a chance on a neighbor calling CPS and the kids disappearing into the system.
“My parents told them you’ll be coming to see them in the morning,” I say.
She doesn’t say anything, and last night seems like forever ago. The way she wanted me. How good it felt to see her jealous when she thought another woman had me.
She doesn’t need me, though. The last thing she needs is me. She needs security and a home, and I’m being selfish. “I’ll take you to them.” I start the car. “My parents will help you.”
But she stops me. She puts her hand on mine as I fist the stick shift, and I pause, too tired to fight anymore.
Rising up, she holds my eyes and slowly climbs over the center console to straddle my lap.
My chest caves, and I drop my eyes, wanting to touch her so bad, but it feels so good, just like this too.
She takes my face in her hands, turning my head and inspecting the bruises and cuts. Her warm fingers graze over the small wounds, and my eyelids flutter closed, feeling no pain anywhere now.
She blocks out everything else, and while I’m not sure if that’s a good thing, I honestly don’t give a shit.
My voice is almost a whisper, “I saw the video yesterday, but I didn’t want to use it. I just…” I struggle to find my voice. “I wanted another day or two with you. I didn’t want it to be over.” I take her face in my hands and pull her forehead down to meet mine. “You are fucking up my life, girl.” I breathe her in. “And I like it.”