Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
40
ALLIE
When I look through the peephole in my door, I don’t know who I was expecting to be out there. A neighbor pissed at me for having a too loud telephone conversation in the depths of the night. A delivery driver working strange hours. A murderer. I’m so overwhelmed and exhausted that my mind isn’t exactly making sense right now.
What I see is a group of men with long, serious faces.
What the fuck are they doing here? How did they find me?
I take a step back, shock hitting me in the gut so hard I press my hand over my lower belly and push.
“Allie,” a low voice says through the door. “Open up, honey. We want to help.”
Help?
How the hell do they think they can help me?
“Allie,” another voice calls. If they keep making this much noise, my neighbors really are going to complain. I don’t want to open the door to them. I don’t want them to see me in this blotchy, low, desperate state, but I can’t just leave them outside.
I unlatch the door slowly, praying that they’ll listen to me when I tell them to go.
“You can’t come in,” I hiss through the crack. “You have to go. You’re going to disturb my neighbors.”
It’s Russell who is nearest the door and his piercing green eyes loom closer, fixing mine with so much empathy and kindness that tears bubble to my eyes and burn at my throat.
“Allie. Just let us in for a second. Please. You’re not alone in this. We’re here to help.”
At that moment, Oliver steps into view and I’m so shocked that he’s come that I take a step back, losing a grip on the door. Russell swings it open gently, making full use of the opportunity, as my hand flies to my mouth.
God, the betrayal that slides through my insides is inky-black and swamp-like. “Allie.” Russell’s voice has a gravelly edge that’s new, as though the sight of my distress has his throat closing too.
“Allie, I’m so sorry,” Oliver starts, and like it has its own mind, my hand snaps out, palm facing him as firmly as a crossing guard trying to stop a juggernaut. I don’t want to hear his excuses. I don’t want to hear his reasons for putting me in this hellish situation where I’ve lost everything overnight. All the trust we built up is gone and hearing him speak makes me despair.
“Please,” I say. “I just…I can’t.”
He shrinks back, chastened. At least he’s listening because if he tried to push his way in and force me to listen to his explanation, I don’t think I’d ever be able to forgive him.
“Allie.” Stefan steps around Oliver. “If you won’t speak to Oliver, that’s okay. But please let at least one of us stay with you…and help you.”
Theron, the other man who dared to search me out in the middle of the night, steps forward, but I’m angry at him, too. It was his idea that started all of this. He was the one who waved the temptation in front of me like a friggin’ drug pusher, and I was the weak individual who had a taste of the purple rubber imitation cock and got addicted to the idea of more.
It can’t be Oliver. It won’t be Theron, and Stefan is too close to Oliver for me to want him, either. Only Russell feels like safety to me now.
“Russell,” I say, gripping the door, ready to push it closed.
“Okay.” Stefan nods once, his expression grave and eyes searching. None of the men in the hallway look as though they’re okay with what’s happening, but that doesn’t matter. We’re not in this together. I’m in this alone. They can all walk away without looking back. What happened that night by the pool is a line across my life. For the rest of my days, there will be the time before that night, and the time after.
All of a sudden, all the paths that were in front of me as recently as a week ago seem cut off. All the paths I didn’t plan to take but knew in the back of my mind were available if I wanted them are no longer there.
The loss of opportunity is like a sucker punch to the gut and the old adage, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone’ plays in my mind. How was I happy restricting myself to this job, writing articles that were fine but didn’t engage my mind or my heart? How was I possibly planning to stay in this job that felt like treading water in a choppy sea for the foreseeable future when there was so much else out there?
I take a step back, and Russell murmurs something through the door and then closes it.
He looms so large in my tiny entrance way that I want to laugh. A giant at my door. Aren’t the giants in fairy tales always the bad guys?