Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
“You’ve really never gone camping in your life?” I ask.
Talia jerks her head up at me before looking down.
“Never,” she answers. “I don’t think I made it clear how sick I was when I was little. I had an oxygen tank on wheels for a little while that I had to take with me everywhere. I insisted on a pink one and covered it with pony stickers.” She smiles weakly, fretting her fingers together. “Some kids grow out of asthma. Some just get better. I got better, but by the time I did… I was already so wrapped up in Grandpa and the shop. I never really caught up on the things I missed out on.”
“That’s rough,” I say sincerely.
“I don’t regret it. I love him. I love making things with him—and truth be told, he kinda depends on me.” She tilts her head back, looking up at the canopy overhead and the sky with sweet wonder. “But it’s nice, y’know? To be out here breathing this clean air and smelling how different it is from town. To just run and play and see things that were always too far away before.”
And if something happens to her because of you, what happens to that old man? I wonder darkly.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “If that was an insensitive question.”
I mean it, even if that’s not really why I’m apologizing.
She looks at me and her smile strengthens as she shakes her head. “It wasn’t. I’m really okay with talking about it. I mean, you get it, right?”
I blink, recoiling a little.
“Yeah, I do.” I look away then, staring into the small crackling fire. I prod at it with a stick, sending up a shower of sparks. It’s almost uncomfortable to share a confession when it feels like admitting weakness, but some part of me feels like I owe it to her after dragging her into my fuckery. “I didn’t exactly grow up like other kids, either. Most kids’ idea of ‘playing’ with the albino freak was finding out how easy I bruise. If they wanted to know that bad, they could’ve just asked my old man. I was his favorite canvas.”
I freeze.
What the fuck did I just say?
I never say that out loud to anyone.
Not even Carina knew how my dad used to beat me. She only knew I had no interest in introducing her to my family and thought it was a slight against her. I never asked for her sympathy.
I didn’t need anyone’s useless platitudes.
I don’t need Talia’s, either.
I definitely don’t need her to straighten up and practically yell at my face.
“You’re not a freak!” Soft, yet so loud. “You’re just you.”
I look up sharply to find her watching me across the fire, her blue eyes almost hard with warm determination. Her mouth is a firm line of lush lips trembling with conviction.
Goddamn.
This girl confuses the hell out of me.
One minute, she’s looking at me like I’m a monster. The next, she’s running around me like a puppy, pulling me in all directions.
Now, she’s looking at me like she sees me.
Not my strangeness.
Not my coldness.
Not the shield that keeps people at a distance.
Me.
And I don’t know how the hell I feel about being seen.
I have to break that innocent gaze again, deflecting by standing to take the kettle off the fire and pour water over two waiting cups of tea.
“Can’t be anyone else, can I?” I say harshly. “Wouldn’t even know how.”
That’s a lie.
My entire identity in Redhaven is a lie, even if it’s mostly a lie of omission when all I do is keep my business to myself and let other folks fill in the blanks.
I wonder how betrayed the guys would feel if they knew the truth.
How betrayed would Talia feel if she knew she’s out here with a liar?
It doesn’t matter.
I’m not here for lasting relationships or friends. Once I take down Xavier Arrendell and the Jacobins, that’s it.
I’ll probably pack up for New York or New England.
The thought leaves an odd chasm in my chest that’s never been there before.
I hold a steaming mug out to Talia. She tilts her head back, looking up at me, her brightness eclipsed in my shadow falling over her.
It feels a little too heavy.
Without a word, she reaches up to take the mug in both hands. Her slender fingers curl against mine.
For an instant, we’re connected.
Our fingers are so close, the heat of the mug fusing us together.
Her skin feels like silk on mine, lingering with a tension so thick you can taste it.
Her heart is in her eyes.
I don’t know how to read it or what this feeling is stirring inside me.
I wasn’t expecting this shit.
Not when I only just tripped over this girl this past week.
Not when I’m so close to kicking down doors that have been sealed off for years.