Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
The thought has me getting emotional and needing to get some air. Since we still have a bit before dinner, I sneak up to the rooftop garden. It’s freezing outside, so I grab a jacket, knowing that probably won’t help, but once I’m up there, I realize it’s almost not needed, because surrounding the couches are heating lamps.
“Your sister said you were coming home,” a masculine voice says from behind me. “Figured you’d come up here at some point.”
“So, you bought me heating lamps,” I choke out, trying and failing to rein in my emotions. No matter how long I’ve been gone, my feelings for Lincoln Alexander never seem to waver.
“Didn’t want you to freeze your ass off,” he says nonchalantly.
I turn around and take him in: strong jaw, eyes, the color of melted caramel, black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Jeans that mold to his muscular thighs. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him, but he still looks as gorgeous as ever. I do the math...He must be in his mid, maybe late thirties now. I always assumed the older you get, the more your looks deteriorate. Yet somehow Lincoln’s managed to get even better-looking with time. Figures...
“Everything okay, El?” he asks, stepping toward me.
“Yep,” I say robotically, but the way his lips turn down tell me he’s not buying it.
“Let’s try this again. Everything okay?” He steps closer, and I swallow thickly, wondering how my body will react.
Of course, instead of doing what it usually does—vibrating with nervous energy and dread—butterflies swarm my belly, and my heart picks up speed.
“I’m okay,” I say because it’s the half-truth. I am okay. I’m alive and safe. I have money in the bank, and I’m only a semester away from graduating. So, yeah, I’m okay. Aside from dreading any man touching me intimately and lacking a relationship with my sister, I’m okay.
He eyes me for several beats then nods. “Your sister misses the hell out of you. Any chance of you moving home in May?”
I swallow hard, not wanting to lie to him. “I’m not sure,” I admit truthfully. “Just taking it one day at a time.”
Another nod. “You know I’m here if you need anything, right?”
This isn’t the first time he’s said this. He’s told me that several times over the years, especially following the events that went down that day in the warehouse when he carried me out with me clinging to him like he was my lifeline. As I sat, curled up in his arms, he whispered everything will be okay repeatedly, and ever since then, every time I see him, he asks me the very same question.
“I know. Thank you.”
I settle myself on the couch, and Lincoln turns the heating lamps on, warmth immediately emanating off them. I wonder if he’s going to sit with me, but my thoughts are answered when he reaches over, squeezes the top of my shoulder, and then disappears back inside, leaving me alone.
I sit like this for several minutes, getting lost in my own head, breathing in the fresh air that goes untouched by the pollution because we’re so far up. Up here, it’s easy to miss home. The quiet, easy feel of being close to my family. It’s when I’m forced to look at my sister and know that I’m not being completely honest with her that it gets hard. When I think about the way she looks at me, knowing something is wrong but not knowing how to fix it. When I walk down the streets of Tesoro, I’m reminded of the evil that lurks in the shadows. Eleazar might be dead, but his spirit still haunts me. Sometimes, it even feels as though he’s watching me. I know that’s impossible, that it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but it doesn’t stop my brain from believing it to be true.
Which is part of the reason why I never wanted to tell Sienna the truth. I thought if I was the only one suffering, then it was for the best. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe if I lay it all out for her, leaving no secrets between us, we can finally start to work past it all. Sure, she’ll be hurt, but will it be any worse than the way she looks at me now? And maybe I can shine a light on the demons hiding in my closet and rid myself of them once and for all.
“There you are,” Sienna says. “I forgot about this place.” She glances around, clearly confused as to how the heating lamps got here, but I don’t bother explaining.
“Dinner ready?” I ask, standing.
“Yeah, but umm...” She looks at me with longing in her eyes, and my stomach tightens, hating that it’s all my fault. Everything is my fault. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing. How school is going. You’re always so busy.”