Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 643(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 643(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?” I asked, choosing to not push him on those things and give him space.
Gene didn’t answer straight away. But then he answered me with a question of his own. “Are you?”
I listened to the cars driving by beyond the high walls of the churchyard. I breathed in the fresh, winter air. “I feel …” I wrapped my cardigan tighter around me. “I feel like I’m in a strange kind of purgatory.” I nodded, knowing I had expressed it correctly. “I have my old life on one hand, a life so far away from this place, from this kind of life.” Gene stared at the ground, but the stillness of his body told me he was listening. “Then, on the other hand, I have a chance at this new life, one I want with all my heart, but one that’s just out of reach. Out of reach until whoever wants to hurt me—us—is gone.”
I smiled to myself despite my fears. “A life with Arthur. A life I never thought he would ever be able to give me, or I could give him.” Gene looked at me, and I nearly cried at the way his eyes seemed to yearn for the same thing. “Until then, I’m here. Staying hidden. Keeping safe until it’s clear for me to move on and step into my next chapter.” I laughed and shook my head. “Did any of that make sense?”
“Yes.” Gene sat back on the bench. His curly brown hair flopped in front of his eyes. “I get it completely.”
“How do you feel?” I asked. “Being back here?”
Gene pulled down the sleeves of his top until it half covered his palms. “Like you,” he said. “Trapped between the past and the future.” He tipped his head up at the sky. “My past …” He tapped at his head, then his heart. “I have thoughts and feelings … dark, sinking thoughts. Demons. They drag me down. Until I can’t breathe.”
I wanted to wrap my arms around him and keep him safe. But I stayed still. And I listened. “I’ve never quite fit in to this family like the rest of them,” he rasped, and I could hear the pain in his heavy tone. “I’m not like my brother or sister. Never have been. Never been like Arthur. They were born for this life, ready to join the ranks and serve the family. Me …” He sighed. “I’m not sure what life I was meant for. None, I think. Living and me … they don’t seem to be well matched.”
“Gene.” I fought back the urge to hold his hand, my heart breaking at such sorrowful, morbid words. “You are. You’re meant for this family. There is a place for you here. You just have to find it. It may seem hidden right now. But your place is here, I know it.” I inched closer to him. “Your family love you. They just want you to be happy. Whatever path you choose.”
“Happy …” he said, as if the word was something he’d never heard of, something he had never felt, a concept he couldn’t grasp.
“No one,” I asked, “or nothing helps you feel happy? Makes something inside of you burn? No one helps relieve the sadness?” His eyes darted to me, and I recalled the day I met him. He’d kept his head low, eyes downcast as he faced us all … until one person came to him. Until one person held him, and Gene had held him back so tightly it was as if he would never let go.
“Charlie,” I said knowingly, and Gene froze. His mouth opened and closed. I didn’t think he would say anything, but he turned to me, a flicker of life—and maybe hope—sprouting on his face, and—
“Princess?” At the sound of Arthur’s voice, Gene closed his mouth and shut down, looking over my shoulder. I followed his gaze and saw Arthur approaching. He glanced to his mum’s and sister’s graves, then back to me. His expression softened when he understood what I was doing out here. Who I had found.
“Gene,” he said. “You okay, kid?”
“I’m good, Artie.” He got to his Doc Marten-clad feet, his black skinny jeans clinging to his slim legs. “It was nice speaking to you, Cheska.” He smiled, and the sight stole my breath. He was beautiful. I wanted with all my soul for him to be rid of the darkness that kept him captive, and for his light to bring him home. “Welcome to the family.”
I watched Gene walk away. Arthur’s finger ran down my cheek. “You’re freezing.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go inside.” I let him lead me into the house and straight into our bedroom. I sat on the end of the bed, my conversation with Gene circling my head.
“I like him,” I said to Arthur as he took off his suit jacket, waistcoat and tie. He undid the top buttons of his shirt, then rolled up his sleeves to his elbows.