Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Third warning.
My eyes narrow. “Then why the fuck was I still there until Max broke me out?”
He shakes his head. “You were a different person, Isa. I thought I was doing you good.”
I grab his arm when he pushes away from me. “What?”
He stumbles back slightly until he was against the wall. “You didn’t see you during your episodes. You don’t get to tell me how I should have handled you when I didn’t even fucking know you during that time.”
I blink. “So you didn’t try.”
He tenses. “I fucking did.”
“What stopped you!” I yell, frustrated.
Bryant brought his eyes to mine, baring his teeth. “When you never came back to Isa and stayed as Brooke. I don’t know what that fucker has told you, but you haven’t been Isa for a long fucking time. You were—essentially dead.”
Tears threaten to spill. “He told me it was bad, just not that bad.” Probably for good reason, Max didn’t want to lay it on thick right away. “You thought I was gone?”
Bryant glares at me. “Why the fuck else would I move on?”
I’m frozen in the spot. Momentarily paralyzed by his confession. “I don’t…” I stumble backward, struggling to suck in any oxygen.
“You need to pay very close attention to the next words that are about to come out of my mouth, Isa…” Bryant mutters, grabbing onto my arm before I collapse onto the ground.
I yank away from him. “Why the fuck would I do that?” I hiss, before spinning around and making my way further down the hallway, passing all of the familiar artwork. All of my favorite pieces by Banksy.
“Isa,” he growls, annoyed at my rebellion. Ever Bryant. He caresses my rage before using it as his toy. I continue down until I take a random right turn, not wanting to head straight through the red doors at the end of the hallway. My footsteps pick up in pace until I’m eventually jogging through a library and flying out a door that opens onto the patio at the back of the house. Untouched and cool air slaps me across my face, pulling my attention back to the here and now and out of my near panic attack.
Inhale.
Exhale.
I know that he’s behind me, and I don’t know if that’s what’s making something so simple like breathing difficult, but I can’t seem to get it under control.
“Baby.” His voice is soft from behind me and my eyes drift closed as the syllables wrap around my flesh and sink into my pores. “I need you to listen to me.” I slowly release the breath I was holding, finally turning to face him.
He’s a foot in front of me now, close enough for me to lean forward and reach him.
“When I say these next words, I need you to not react. Can you do that for me?”
I nod, running my tongue over my lips. Despite it all, and whatever else Bryant is telling me, I want to go back to trusting him.
“We need to go back in there and pretend like nothing has happened.”
“Why,” I whisper, my shoulders sagging from the defeat and withdrawal of energy.
He watches me closely, and I know deep down that I don’t know if I’ll trust his next words. “Because Stacey and Max are not who they say they are.”
I still. My senses now on full alert. “What do you mean?”
“Stacey and Max know each other. I don’t know what they’re playing at right now, but we need to go along with it.” I believe him to an extent, but something doesn’t make sense. I know he’s not going to let me all the way in right now, so I do what I know I have to do.
My eyebrows slant in. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
Bryant exhaled. “Because this is more than you and I. This is you, me, your father, Jess, and—” His eyes came to mine. “Devon.”
Best friends can hurt you just as much as a lover can.
Love is the weapon. People are just collateral.
-Bryant
Seeing her squirm beneath my revelation raise old feelings that I thought I had squashed when I thought she was gone forever. I should have known better than to trust a word that her father said, even if he was telling the truth, which to be honest, I’m not sure. Ever the fucking liar and manipulator—I knew better. I don’t know if I chose to ignore the signs, or if I simply believed him because I was tired.
Tired of feeling pain.
Tired of the anguish.
Tired of the mourning.
I wanted it to disappear. I turned my wrath into goddamn poison and forgot how to protect those I loved from being touched by it.
“What do you mean Devon!” she snaps, the fire in her eyes only igniting the very same inferno that I put out while she was gone.