Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70445 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Fuck off,” Bruno says, crossing his arms over his chest.
I speak up before this gets ugly. “Boys, it was good to see you both, but War and I are going for a hike.”
“Yeah, good, go wander around like you used to. If we’re lucky, you’ll get lost and won’t bother coming back this time.” Evan laughs as he turns on his ATV. Bruno follows him, and together they ride back to the barn and disappear around back.
I watch them go, an ugly rolling in my stomach.
Evan and Bruno were always nasty and rude and loved to tease me—but that was outright hostile. I wonder if Daisy’s got them wrapped around her finger.
“Were you serious about the hike?” War asks quietly. “Because if I have to wander around the woods again for a few hours, I’m going to let one of those idiots ride over my head.”
“No, I wasn’t serious.” I turn to him and level a hard stare. “Next time, don’t speak up and pick a fight, all right? I can handle myself.”
“I can’t stand around and let a couple of assholes talk to you that way.” His stare is equally hard and sends a shiver down my spine.
“Why do you even care?”
“Guess I have a thing for damsels in distress.”
I jab a finger at him. “I am not a damsel, and I sure as fuck am not in distress, so save the macho crap next time.”
He laughs as I turn and storm off. The anger’s back, and it’s hotter than ever, even though Evan and Bruno are idiots and don’t deserve a second thought. Only I hoped things might be different now that everyone’s an adult, and yet coming back to this place only reminds me that nothing ever changes. I’ll always be treated like this, regardless of whether I take it over or run away again.
I’m an outsider in my own family, and no matter what, that’ll never change.
Chapter 13
Melody
The spiral stairs to the stop of the tower creak.
A thick layer of dust sits on the railing. I push it off, going up and up. Everything’s the same as the last time I was in here, the same posters and pictures, the same paintings, the same carpet. The door to the top is the same: big, blue, with a gold handle and an equestrian design etched into the center, two big horses rearing back with leaves set all around them.
I push it open and climb into my childhood.
The room’s cold. Spiders took residence in the corners and there’s evidence of mice. The books are old and musty, but dry, and their binding glue’s still intact. The CDs are stacked on the shelf, the magazines shoved in bins, the speakers collecting more dust. The walls are all glass, pristine like they’d been cleaned yesterday. I lie on my back on the green shag carpet and stare out the windows at the land beyond, watching the trees, the grass, the wind whip through the bushes like a wave. It’s all so strange and so familiar, and an ache lodges itself in my chest.
This could all be mine, but I’ll never have it.
So close, and so far away.
I spend awhile up here alone looking out at the ranch and thinking about how much I’ve missed and how much has changed until noise from down below catches my attention. It’s War poking around at the base, looking for the door. I watch him, frowning, trying to decide if I want to help or tell him to go away. Eventually, he comes into the tower, and I listen to him creak up the stairs. I look over my shoulder as he steps into the room.
He’s quiet for a second. His eyes are wide as he looks at the windows, at all the old stuff, and down to me. “Wow,” he says.
I crack a smile despite myself. “I know. Right?”
“What is this place?” He closes the door and walks inside, staring out at the fields.
“My father built it for my mother in the last few months of her life, or at least that’s what I was told. They spent their last days together up there when I was really little, and now I feel like I’m closer to her when I’m at the top.”
“I’m sorry,” War says and puts a hand on the glass. “It’s amazing up here.”
“I think Dad wanted Mom to have someplace that made her happy in the end. Somewhere she could be comfortable, but still be able to see outside.”
“That’s a really beautiful thought.”
“I basically lived in here. I mean, when I wasn’t running around outside, I was up here.”
“A clearing in the woods and the top of a tower. How very fairytale.”
I smile and stretch. “I guess you’re right.”
He turns and studies me with those searching eyes. I always get the feeling that War wants to say something but he’s holding it back for some secretive reason. It’s like whatever he really wants to say is locked behind his lips, and he’s too afraid to let it out.