Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 555(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Angela loosens her grip.
“Bathroom, dear,” she says gently.
There’s a frozen hell moment.
With a nauseated sound, Ros bolts into the suite’s bathroom and slams the door.
Ophelia turns her head from watching, and when she speaks, her voice is subdued. “...will she be okay?”
Angela glances at the bathroom, her eyes troubled. “She will. She’s stronger than you know, dear. Of course, we’ll be there to help her through it.”
“We will,” Ophelia agrees—then squeezes me tight, burying her face in my shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you for telling us, Grant, without leaving out the ugly parts. Honestly, we needed it. We needed the truth, warts and all.”
“Philia, no. If there was any other way, I’d have traded years off my life. I’m sorry this truth has to hurt like hell. It’s got me torn up just as bad as you ladies,” I say roughly, grabbing her hand.
She squeezes me so tight, I hardly notice the warm, soulful smile her ma beams our way.
“Thank you for never giving up. Without you, we never would’ve found out what happened to him. And that freak, Aleksander, I don’t even want to think about what he’d have gotten away with if you hadn’t stepped in, if you hadn’t—” she chokes off, shaking her head severely.
“Ethan was my brother too, Ophelia. Not by blood, but family all the same. Now we can finally give him the rest he deserves.” I’m fucking breaking as I say those words, but it’s the sun in this room holding me together.
This small woman with the same calm, easy smile as my best friend.
I think that’s the one thing all the Sandersons share, that smile, no matter what else makes up the other half of their DNA.
And even if I won’t say it right now, finding out the full grisly picture took something heavy off my heart, banishing a darkness in my soul.
The truth will set you free.
That’s not just a Bible verse anymore. It’s something everybody in this room has lived and breathed.
Only question now is what the hell we do with that freedom.
I haven’t figured it all out, not yet, but I’ve got a few ideas.
Inhaling slowly, I brush her hair back and kiss the top of her head.
“I had to know. Same as you. Now, we’ve got our answers, and Aleksander Arrendell will never hurt anybody again,” I whisper.
It goes quiet then.
Just the sound of running water in the bathroom, the faint beep of Angela’s monitor, and the soft sounds of Ophelia breathing softly as she settles in my arms.
I let her stay with me while she processes the shock.
Over her head, I catch Angela’s eye.
Her mother studies me for a long moment, something sad yet warm in her gaze, before her mouth curls and she gives me a subtle nod.
That’s when my breath stalls and it hits me.
She sees me.
She knows how much her daughter means to me.
She looks at me like I’ve always been family, and not in the creepy fucking Arrendell way.
And she’s telling me it’s all right to make that a reality.
That if I want to catch Ophelia while she’s spinning, if I want to keep her and never let her go, I don’t need to dillydally with the usual slow-burn shit.
I already have the blessing of the woman Ophelia loves most.
I just have to man the fuck up and gather my courage.
I have to find the right words one more time to tear my heart open and ask one simple question.
It’s a quiet farewell when we exit the medical center together, leaving Angela and Ros to talk and comfort each other.
We walk silently, hand in hand, until we part ways at the station.
I still need to file a proper report with Mason Law’s confession while the details are fresh in my mind.
“I’ll be home soon,” I promise, cupping her cheek and kissing her in the street, her cold-reddened nose brushing mine.
Her kiss comes slow and delicately wanting, all gentleness and parted lips that beckon me inside like she needs me to fill her. I oblige, sinking into her with my eyes closed until there’s nothing but her darkness, her heat, the curl of her breath against my cheeks.
It’s so hard to pull back it hurts, but I do, smiling faintly.
“Be safe.”
“It’s just a few blocks,” she teases, her cheeks flushed with more than just the cold. “But I will.”
She turns and walks away, wrapped up in one of my flannels and still shivering.
That silly woman has two sweaters on, still too distracted by life to buy a proper coat.
I stand and watch her till I can’t see her anymore, then glance at the door of the police station. An instinct pricks at my skin.
You know what?
The police report can wait.
I won’t forget anything when all the sordid details are carved in my brain.
Right now, I’ve got something more important to take care of.