Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“I’m so fucking sorry, Cass.”
“Stop!” The word flies out of her mouth with more emotion, more force, and hell, more volume than the past few days. “Stop apologizing. It wasn’t your fault, okay? It was those assholes who did this to me. All of it. Not you.” The last two words are little more than a wisp of breath. She pulls back, frowning at me. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because that old spark is finally coming back, and I was worried it might be gone forever.”
Her shoulders sag, and I don’t know if it’s relief or grief, but I pull her in for a hug, squeezing her tight. I pull back and place the phone in her hand. “If you don’t want to call, just text your folks and let them know you’re okay.” I press a kiss to her forehead and give her a minute alone to reach out to her parents.
“Diesel,” she says, her voice quiet but with a little more life. “I texted them. Thanks. They were worried, but now they think I’m finally being reckless and taking up with a man.”
A smile crosses my face, and I turn to her. “Get dressed. We’re going out.”
Cassidy’s eyes go wide and she’s shaking her head. “Oh no, I didn’t mean—”
I take a step forward, but the old Cassidy is there, standing her ground. She doesn’t back down. I take another step forward, testing her, and she notches her chin up a little higher.
“You can either get dressed, or I’ll dress you. Either way, we’re leaving this house in fifteen minutes, Cass.”
Twenty minutes later, Cassidy is pressed against my back, her arms tight around my waist as we leave the streets of Angel Harbor behind and jump on the freeway. I could take the side streets, but I have a feeling I’m not the only one who could use a little bit of speed and the open road. I squeeze the gas, weaving through the congested traffic common day and night in SoCal, letting the warm air hit my skin.
As we continue on Mulholland, Cassidy’s body relaxes against mine. The fresh air and scenic views are just what we need after a long day. I pull the bike over as the road becomes too dangerous to ride, but not before getting as close as possible to our destination.
“We just have a couple of miles left,” I tell her, pointing to the iconic Hollywood sign ahead. “Feel like a hike?”
Her eyes light up with amusement. “The Hollywood Sign? Isn’t it illegal to be here?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “I’m an outlaw, babe.”
“I thought you were going to take me to some dive bar.”
“Nah. Figured you’ve had enough of being stuck with strangers,” I say.
“Thanks, Diesel,” she whispers with a hint of sadness in her voice. I can tell she’s thinking back to those days trapped in that hellhole.
I lead the way to the trail, trying to shake off the heavy atmosphere. “Let’s get a better view from up top. Sound good?”
She follows reluctantly, saying, “Sure. I think.”
Finally reaching the peak, we take in the breathtaking sight of the city below us. The last light of day adds a golden touch to the skyline. “Never thought it’d look this good from here,” Cassidy says with wonder in her eyes.
I look down at the city. “Everything looks better when you’re not stuck in the middle of it.”
She nods while still gazing at the mesmerizing view. “Not too shabby,” she admits. “Thanks for getting me out of the house, Diesel.”
I wrap my arm around her, relishing the moment as the city transforms below us. “Anytime, Cassidy. I’ll do anything you need.”
She stays close and leans in, giving me a subtle signal. I press a kiss on her forehead and let the moment linger. Down below, the city’s all lit up, but here, it’s just Cassidy and me, and nothing can beat that.
The night’s still young, and who knows what the rest of it will bring.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Cassidy
The image of myself curled up in the corner, exposed and vulnerable, is burned into my mind. I try to shake it off, but even in a deep sleep, I know it’s not just a dream. This is a nightmare that I am destined to relive over and over again.
It’s a never-ending cycle that plays out every time I close my eyes and try to find some relief in sleep.
But this time, as I watch from above, I see myself differently. Instead of fighting back with all the strength and determination I possess, I see myself shrinking, cowering like a wounded animal.
My screams and kicks are futile against their overwhelming strength and numbers. Each of their blows lands with agonizing force, leaving bruises and cuts on my already battered body.
And finally, staring up at the last man with his familiar white-blond hair that matches his soulless eyes, I know what’s coming next.