Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
She says it like that’s just so normal. Like she’s already accepted this is how things will be between them. But I sure as fuck can’t tell her she deserves better when I can’t provide it.
She reaches out and touches my face. “Don’t hurt me like that again,” she tells me. “I can’t control my emotions when it comes to you, and I don’t care if it’s selfish. I don’t want to see you with anyone else. If you’re going to do it, don’t ever let me know about it, please.”
Telling her that’s hypocritical seems like a waste of breath. This situation is what it is. One big, fucked-up mess. But we can’t change it, and I have to stop punishing her for it.
“Okay, peaches,” I concede. “I won’t do that to you again.”
She strokes my jaw beneath her fingers and holds out her hand. “Give me your phone.”
“Why?” I murmur.
“Just do it.”
I drag it from my pocket and hand it over to her. She types something in, and her phone chimes with a message before she hands it back to me.
“Now you have my number,” she says.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Bianca swallows, and I know she’s close to losing it. I don’t want to be the reason she cries. So I pull her back and kiss her again, telling myself it will be the last time but knowing it won’t. When I let her go, she releases a shuddering breath and steels herself.
“Okay, I really have to go.”
Even after she says it, she lingers, her eyes moving over my face. And I can see how much she doesn’t want to. Maybe that should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Because when I watch her finally walk away, I know she’ll go clean herself up, wash me off her, and pretend this never happened.
With nothing but those thoughts to keep me company, I adjust my clothes, smooth back my hair, and stare down at my screen, where she programmed her number into my phone. Under Peaches.
Reluctant amusement cracks across my face, and I shake myself out of it when the door opens again. At first, I think it’s Bianca, but when I look up, it’s Tori who comes rushing in. She’s in tears, holding back quiet, shaking sobs as she comes to a standstill, swiping at a bloody gash on her forehead.
“Tori?”
She blinks up at me, and a visible tremor moves through her when she realizes she’s not alone.
“What happened to you?” My eyes darken as I take in the bruises on her arms and around her throat. “Are you okay?”
“Leave me alone!” she bellows. “Don’t ever speak to me again!”
Chapter 31
Lyric
She’s a goddamn liar.
The echo of those words from the kitchen still rings through my ears as I stare at the wall. My chest is hollow, and I truly feel hopeless for the first time in a long time.
The soft murmurs of conversation disappeared a few hours ago, and I know it’s only a matter of time before Madden comes with my dinner. As I’ve sat here with my thoughts, considering my only two avenues of choice, I’m still not any closer to a decision.
Self-preservation dictates that I should run the first chance I get. That would be the logical thing to do. But then I recall Birdie’s words, and they tether me to this place. He could still go to prison for murder. And despite the certainty in my gut that he’s got this all wrong, a tiny nagging voice in my mind asks me what would happen if he isn’t.
Even if I could leave, I don’t think my conscience would ever allow me peace with this hanging over my head. I know I can’t be her, but there’s still that question, what if I’m wrong? In one breath, I tell myself I don’t owe him anything, and this guilt I feel doesn’t even make sense, considering how he’s treated me. But in the next, the human part of me argues that I still don’t want him to suffer. If I run now, would I be sentencing him to another injustice? And if I stay, will I be condemning myself to one?
I’m more confused than ever, and I don’t know what to do. His armor is so thick I doubt I’ll ever break through it. But at some point, one of us will have to cave. Either he’s going to realize I’m not the girl he wants me to be, or I’m going to realize I really am unhinged and as horrible as he says I am.
I squeeze my eyes shut when I hear his boots coming toward the door. There’s still the lamp. If I could catch him off guard, I could lock him in here, and then what? All the doors in the house probably lock with codes. There is no escaping, even if I want to.