Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I want to believe him, but a part of me thinks I’m stuck like this, numb and uncaring. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“Don’t thank me for that. It should have never happened in the first place.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t have happened… I feel like it’s my fault it did,” I admit shamefully.
“Why the fuck would you think that?”
“I thought about calling you when I got home, and the house was empty. I decided against it because I wanted to take care of myself. Maybe if I had called you—”
“Don’t,” Quinton snaps. “Don’t you dare blame yourself. None of this is your fault.”
“I just wish I wasn’t so weak.”
“Aspen, you’re the strongest person I know. No matter how much shit people put you through, including me, you never let it break you. You got back up every time with your head held high. You even stood up to my father, and I’ve seen grown men piss their pants in his presence.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“But you are. Even when the entire school had it out for you, you went to class every day.”
“I wanted to hide in my room.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I basically sold my body to you so you would keep me safe.”
“You did what you had to do to protect yourself. Everyone needs someone, and needing help is not a weakness. Plus, we both know that you wanted me anyway.”
“Do you have an answer to everything?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what is going to happen next?”
“You’ll stay here until you’re all healed up, and then we’ll go back to Corium. In the meantime, I’m tracking down Matteo so I can end his miserable life.”
I think about how much easier it will be with Matteo gone. Not having to watch my back and constantly worry he’ll be waiting for me around every corner.
“I like the idea of him being dead.”
“Me too.”
“What did you have to promise your father for him to be so nice to me? He almost seemed like he cared about me when he was here earlier.”
“I didn’t have to promise him anything. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t think it’s particularly about you. He still doesn’t like you, but he is angry that they hurt you the way they did. Scarlet is not much younger than you, and Adela was your age.” He doesn’t have to explain more; Xander thinks it could have been one of his daughters.
Quinton readjusts his hold on my hand, interlacing my fingers with his. We’ve had sex, kissed, and held each other while naked, but nothing has felt as intimate as the way we are holding hands right now.
“How am I going to get over what happened?”
“You’re not supposed to get over it, but we’ll learn how to live with it. What happened doesn’t define who you are.”
I don’t know when I fell asleep. I only know that when I open my eyes, I’m alone again. Deep down inside, I didn’t expect anything else. Quinton rarely sleeps for long. Besides, he’s on a mission to balance the scales.
It’s only when the door opens that I realize the approach of the nurse must be what woke me. “Good, you’re awake.”
I only nod since I doubt she would appreciate it if I pointed out she woke me up. She’s been nothing but kind, though, like the doctor.
“How about we get you on your feet?” She must recognize the horror on my face for what it is since her expression softens. “Movement is important for healing. I know it’s easy for me to say in my position while you’re the one hurting, but it’s the truth. The sooner you start moving around, the quicker your body will mend itself.”
I’m in pain with the slightest movement, even with the meds. And she wants me to walk?
I don’t have it in me to argue.
Besides, she’s already pulling back the blankets. I don’t think she’s going to listen to arguments.
Now I’m treated to the sight of the tube running out from between my legs and emptying into a clear bag. The sight of blood-tinged urine stirs up half-memories of confusion and agony. I don’t even remember having the catheter inserted. Now, I have to spread my sore legs to have it removed. One humiliation after another.
“I’ll be taking this catheter out, and then I’ll help you to the bathroom. Just relax.” I exhale hard when she tells me to and whimper against the uncomfortable pressure of having the bulb removed. I’m still so raw down there, a constant reminder of what they did to me.
But one of them has already paid with his life. Somehow, the discomfort subsides when I remember that.
It flares back up as soon as I sit up with the nurse’s help, then lower my legs over the side of the bed. Parts of my body I didn’t know existed suddenly scream out. “Deep breaths,” the nurse reminds me in a soft voice. “You’re doing fine.” I don’t know if I agree, but I do manage to stand on shaky legs before dragging one foot, then the other, across the room. It seems even larger than before.