Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“And he didn’t,” I whisper, chest tight with emotions.
“No, he fuckin’ didn’t. He’d give me a snippet, just a fuckin’ snippet, enough to keep me workin’ for him. Eventually, as the years passed by, I became emptier and emptier, an emotionless shell working for him. Only when Charlie came along, did I have hope of actually starting a search for you again. But don’t think I didn’t look, Ellie. Every fuckin’ day of my life was spent wondering, every year that passed by I tried to find different ways to locate you. But I had nothing. He left no trail. It was empty. And I shut down.”
I stare at him.
That must have been awful.
I don’t blame him for what happened to me, Lincoln...well...my heart turned a little black towards him. But Slater, no. He was only trying to protect his family, and then protect me, and it backfired. I can’t hate him for that. And I certainly can’t hate him for signing his life over to a monster to try and find me. It must have been hell, living all those years not knowing where I was.
I was living my own personal hell, but so was Slater, just in a different way.
The desperation must have nearly eaten him alive.
“I’m so sorry you had to live like that for so long.”
“Sorry,” he says, staring at me. “Sorry? Ellie, I’m the fuckin’ reason that piece of shit got you. I deserved to live in fuckin’ agony. I still deserve to live in agony. If it wasn’t for me, you and I would be married, kids, and livin’ in this house in a whole different situation than the one we’re sitting in right now.”
I shake my head. “No, you’re not the reason. Lincoln made a choice, a shitty choice, but a choice all the same. And because of that choice, you were left to fight for your family. You can’t be blamed for what happened after.”
Slater stares at me, then shakes his head. “Fuck me, Ellie. You’ve always been too kind, and too understanding. Hate me, because at the very least that’s what I deserve.”
“No,” I say, firmly, because how could I hate him?
“Fuckin’ jesus,” he barks. “I’m the reason that monster had you. Can’t you see that?”
“No, because your actions were not intentional. How can I punish you for that? You didn’t set it up for me to be taken, and then kick back while I was gone. Slater, look at you. You’re the most broken man I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life, and that’s saying something. Even if I were to be angry at you, how could I possibly punish you, when you’ve spent ten years punishing yourself in the worst way. You’ve lived with what you’ve done, you don’t deserve to live with it any longer.”
His fists clench, and he stands, storming out of the room.
I sit, shocked, confused, and mostly hurt.
I give it a few minutes, before I stand and walk through the house, until I find him on the back porch, staring out at the stars, fists still clenched, panting.
Should I leave him be?
Or should I walk over and see if he’s okay?
I take a steady breath, and I walk over, stopping behind him. My fingers itch to touch him, which is something I’m really not familiar with, so I leave my hands by my side.
“Slater, please don’t spend the rest of your life, punishing yourself for what happened to me. I can’t’ live with that. I can’t accept that. You did nothing wrong. What happened to me...it...”
Slater drops to his knees.
All that man, and muscle, and strength, just falls.
He hits the deck and his head drops into his hands. He makes a pained sound, and for a moment, I’m too choked up to move, to breathe, to even think.
To see a big man, a strong man, a powerful man, fall to his knees in pure agony, makes my heart want to fall out of my chest. The lump in my throat expands until I can barely breathe, but I let my body take me to him. I shut my mind down, and I just let my body talk, my body move, my body do what it automatically wants to do, and that’s to go over to him, and place my small hand on his large, shaking back.
He makes a wincing sound, and it breaks my heart.
It literally feels like it just splits in two.
“Slater,” I say carefully, softly, because what the hell else am I supposed to say.
He’s breaking, because he’s lived over ten years thinking that he’s the reason I got taken, that he’s the reason for my pain, that he’s the reason for everything that has gone wrong in my life.
Everything he’s built up, is now crumbling out.
I slide my hand up and down, feeling his rigid muscles. He’s so strong, so to see him on his knees, makes me feel helpless. What should I do?