Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Not according to Scarlet. She is pissed that I have more freedom than her.”
“Well, she is younger, and your parents have sheltered her more than you. She also did not attend Corium like she was supposed to.”
“Exactly,” Quinton agrees while dodging one of my hits. “She was so adamant about going to MIT, but now she wants to be part of this world that she wanted nothing to do with a year ago. Doesn’t she get our father gives me more freedom because I earned it. I’ve been training for this my whole life while she was reading romance novels and going to frat parties.”
“Have you told her that?”
When Quinton doesn’t respond right away, I know the answer is no. This is so typical for Q. He always expects other people to read his mind.
“Talk to her. Explain to her like you did me, and she’ll understand,” I offer. “Is that why you brought me here? To get advice on how to mend things with your sister?”
Both of us are breathing heavy now, sweat dripping down our faces.
“I feel like you know her best… but, no, that’s not the reason.” Quinton throws a combination of hooks and jabs, one hitting me right in my stomach. “I guess I wanted to see for myself.”
“See what for yourself?” I ask when he doesn’t elaborate.
“See if you are still the guy I knew or if he is completely gone.”
I stop moving. Relaxing my arms, I take in a deep breath.
“I’m here now, but I can’t promise that I’ll always be myself. I wish I could. I wish I could promise you I’m still that guy and that you can trust me no matter what. But I can’t. I can’t ask you to trust me when I can’t even trust myself. I feel like I belong in the cell, locked away from everybody.” This is hard to admit, but it’s the truth. I take a step toward Quinton, keeping my voice low enough so only he can hear. “I’m scared, Q. I’m scared out of my fucking mind. What if I try to hurt you again, or Aspen or Scarlet? I can’t control River, and that scares the shit out of me.”
For a moment, Quinton stares at me like I just grew a second head. He can’t believe I just admitted to being scared. Hell, part of me doesn’t comprehend it either.
Once he’s composed himself again, he drops his fists and sighs deeply. “If you would’ve just hurt me, I would’ve already forgiven you. But you… River,” he corrects himself, “went after Aspen, and I don’t know if I can let that go. For what it’s worth, I wish I could help you. And I wish I would’ve noticed something was wrong sooner.”
“It’s not your fault,” I tell him honestly. I don’t blame him or anyone living under this roof.
“I guess it’s not really your fault either, but that doesn’t change how we feel.” I couldn’t say it better myself.
No matter what happened or who is at fault, all that matters is how people feel about it now and unfortunately for me, I’m not to be trusted.
18
SCARLET
Dread makes my legs heavy, but I push through it on my way down to the cells. I promised Ren I would visit, and that’s what I’m going to do. If only I knew for sure who I would end up seeing. Is he River this morning? If he is, what do I do? I can’t turn my back on him when he needs me, but does that mean I have to put myself in harm’s way all the time? River can’t do much to hurt me through the bars—that’s all I have to go on as I walk down the stairs and into the mostly quiet space. How does he survive down here in all this silence?
The soles of my shoes against the floor make enough noise for him to hear me, and I see his hands wrap around the bars before I’m close enough to make out the rest of him. “Angel. I was starting to think I wouldn’t see you today.”
I release the breath I was holding. Now my heart beats at a steadier, more normal rhythm as I finish my approach. Yes, he’s Ren now, the Ren I know, and I have to bite my lip to hold back the sob of happiness that stirs in my chest. “Sorry, I overslept a little, so I guess they had somebody else bring your breakfast down.”
He searches my face. There’s a hunger in his eyes. Like he’s dying to know everything he’s missing while he’s locked up down here. “Do you feel okay? Are you sick? You need to take care of yourself. I can’t have you falling apart on me, Angel.”
“I’m doing my best.” I’m also trying to figure out my feelings about the baby, or rather the lack of a baby. How could I have been so dumb? I assumed too much without getting proof. I let myself get caught up in a narrative, and look at me now. Mourning for something that never existed. An idea, that’s all it ever was. How sad. The whole damn situation is so sad.