Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136791 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Once the alarm is disarmed and the front door locked, I glance around the house. Everything is exactly where I left it…exactly where it's been for most of my life. Aside from replacing the television when it went out and the sofa when a piece of wire started poking through and jabbing me when I sat down, I've changed nothing.
Pictures of me, my mom, and Titan are scattered around shelves and hanging on the walls. Seeing them always makes my heart ache, but they also made me feel close to Titan and mom over the years…made me feel less alone.
I miss them so much.
Tears well in my eyes as my gaze tracks slowly over each photograph. A few tears slip down my cheeks, but I don't try to fight them off. I didn't cry for years. Even when we buried them, I didn't cry. I refused to let myself feel anything because I knew I wouldn't make it through the day if I acknowledged the abyss of grief waiting to swallow me whole. I've cried a lot since Cade came back into my life. Seeing him ripped off the blinders, allowing that grief and pain to start slipping out between cracks in the walls I erected.
For once, I don't mind them. They don't make me feel weak. They make me feel human.
"I saw Cade the day before yesterday," I tell Dr. Jenner early on Friday morning, curling my feet up underneath me in the oversized armchair in her office. The room seems less like a doctor's office and more like someone's living room. The walls are a dark wood. She doesn't have a desk, but sits in a turquoise armchair that matches mine. A white rug rests on the hardwood floor, giving the place a soft, welcoming feel. The only art on the wall is a colorful abstract painting of a black tree on a vivid backdrop. It's gorgeous.
"How did that go?" Dr. Jenner asks. Like me, she's got her feet curled up in the chair beneath her, her skirt tucked primly around her legs. With her grayish-black hair up in a ponytail and a pair of chunky glasses on her face, she reminds me more of a soccer mom than a psychiatrist. Her smile is kind and inviting, the crow's feet around her eyes making it apparent that she smiles a lot.
I genuinely like her. She's not judgmental and doesn't make me feel like crap no matter what awful thoughts and feelings I confess to her. She just listens quietly, letting me purge myself of all the painful things that have been brewing for far too long.
"I'm not sure," I confess, rubbing a finger across the soft fabric of the chair. "We were both getting home at the same time. He didn't say anything to me. He seemed tired, like he hasn't been sleeping."
"Have you been sleeping?"
"A little. Better since I got home." I thought being home would be harder, but it's honestly been more comforting than anything. "I like knowing he's close to me," I whisper. "Even if he's next door, I like knowing he's there."
"He hasn't been there in a long time."
I nod.
"You said he's a DEA agent. That must be tough for him."
"I think so. Tougher than he likes to admit." I bite my lip and glance up at her to find her watching me, her expression open. "He does it to punish himself for what happened to Titan and my mom."
"Maybe," she agrees and then cocks her head to the side. "Do you think it's possible he does it for another reason too?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, from what you've told me about him, he sounds like someone who cares a lot about what happens to people. He's been taking care of others his entire life. Do you think it's possible that his job isn't solely about punishing himself, but about protecting people too? He lost someone important to him. I just wonder if part of the reason he does what he does is to keep anyone else from going through the same thing."
"I've never thought about it that way," I admit, frowning. "I think you're right though. He says he isn't a hero, that he's a monster, but I think he became a cop to help people. After Titan and my mom…after they were murdered…" Saying that out loud still hurts. "He was so angry. The cops kept coming to ask him questions instead of looking for the guys who killed our family. He said they were too scared of life in the hood to spend any time in it."
"You said our family."
"Huh?"
"When you were talking about Titan and your mom, you said our family, not your family," she says like she's making an observation instead of asking a question.
"They're Cade's family, too," I answer anyway because it's true. Cade has always been part of our family. He was never just the boy next door to any of us. Titan was like a brother to him, and my mom adored him. He was as much one of us as me or Titan or my mom.