Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
His jaw tightens as he sears me with his gaze. “Dad’s making me leave.”
“Leave to go where?” I frown as I try to make sense of his words. “What does that even mean?”
He sets down his rifle, propping it up against the shelves, and then cautiously approaches me. This time, he’s not looking at me like he wants to kiss me. His eyes are searching mine, pleading with me to understand. He raises his hand like he wants to cradle my face in his palm. I’m desperate enough for his touch, I almost tilt my head to meet him halfway.
Almost.
When he realizes I’m not going to let him get away with this twice, he gives up, dropping his hand to his side. His nostrils flare in frustration. “It means when Wild and them go back to town, I’m going with them.”
My heart stutters to a stop as I gape at him. “What? For how long? Why?”
“As long as it takes to find a wife,” he mutters, scowling. “Indefinitely if need be.”
I’m already shaking my head. “N-No. You can’t leave us. You can’t leave us!”
He swallows and shrugs. “It’s out of my hands.”
“Why would he do this to us?” I demand, rubbing at the center of my chest. An ache has formed there and I want it to go away. It grows wider and wider by the second. I realize that hole is where Ryder lives and he’s being excavated by my dad’s stupid order. “Why, Ryder? Why?”
His mouth parts as he prepares to speak, but a blood-curdling scream pierces the air. Since Ryder is closer to the pantry door, he turns on his heel and is out before me. I follow him toward the sounds of continued screaming toward the makeshift infirmary that used to be Dez and Raegan’s room.
Stacey must be in labor.
Ryder slams to a halt just inside the doorway, forcing me to step around him so I can see. Stacey is crying and screaming, but she’s not the one in pain here.
It’s Kristen.
Kristen, face chalky and eyes wild, slashes another red stripe across the flesh of her forearm near her wrist. Blood slides down her arm, puddling on the white sheet that’s tangled in her lap. She’s about to slash a third time before I snap into action.
“No!” I bellow, rushing her. “Stop!”
She grunts when I grab onto the wrist of her uninjured arm. I squeeze tight enough she lets the steak knife drop. It slides to the floor with a clatter.
“Fuck,” I cry out. “Ryder, get Dad!”
Kristen sobs, her entire body trembling. I snatch up the sheet and apply it to her bleeding arm, hoping to staunch the flow. I glance over at Stacey, but she’s gone, having followed Ryder out of the room. Carter is here with us, but he’s sleeping off his intense pain and unmoving, therefore no help to us right now.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” I promise to Kristen. “I’ve got you.”
It’s a promise I can’t keep, though. We’re hours away from civilization. If she bleeds out or gets an infection, she’ll die. There’s no access to medical care.
Kristen turns her pale, tearstained face toward me and pins me with a frantic look. “Run.”
Run?
Great, she’s already speaking incoherently. She’s probably seconds away from death.
“We’re going to get you fixed up,” I say, ignoring her strange command. “My parents have sewn up their fair share of gashes. You’re going to be good as new very soon.”
Kristen grabs the front of my shirt and twists the material in her fist. The panic in her eyes chills me to my very soul. “You have to run! Save yourself!”
What the hell does that mean?
Is she that messed up by what those men did to her that she’s behaving irrationally?
Heavy footsteps thud into the room. Logan leads the group, followed by Dad and Ryder. I’m steered away from Kristen as Dad sets to inspect her self-inflicted wounds while Logan hugs her tight, kissing her head.
“I’ve got you, babe. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you. Not even you.” Logan rains kisses down on her head and face like she’s the most precious thing in the world to him. “I’ve got you. Forever, remember? I promised you forever.”
Days ago, I might’ve been jealous at his sweet words.
Today, I’m battling my own demons.
I glance over at Ryder, who wears a pensive expression. He’s my brother. That’s supposed to mean forever and yet he’s leaving without argument.
He can’t leave.
I won’t let him.
I’ve got you, Ryder. Forever. I’m promising you forever.
* * *
* * *
I’m hollow inside.
After last night, my emotions are thin, barely hanging on by a thread. I was thankful no one could see me crying myself to sleep.
In the past, whenever I was sad or frustrated, Ronan was always there. It was him in the bed with me, listening to me rant and rave while offering me much-needed comfort. His shoulder I leaned on. The sound of his laugh that made me cheer up.