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)
What’s even worse is I can’t bring myself to get too close to the bars. Just because I came doesn’t mean what happened was right or safe in any way. If anybody found out what he did, I would never be allowed back down here, so I can’t risk River coming out and doing that to me again. We had a close enough call the first time around.
“What is it?” he asks when I won’t come any closer. “Don’t I get a kiss?” There’s something desperate in his empty laughter, and it breaks my heart.
“I’m just trying to give you a little space,” I explain.
“Who says I want space? I’ve got nothing but space down here.” He throws his arms out to the sides. “What I want is you.”
Gripping the bars again, he touches his forehead to the metal and pins me in place with a heavy stare. “What did I do? Tell me.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
Narrowing his eyes, he grunts, “Then what did he do?”
I have to tell him, but I can’t dig the words out. I can’t make my mouth form them. “He grabbed me,” I settle for replying. It’s not the whole truth, but I don’t know if he could handle the whole truth. What if he gets upset, and River comes back out? At the very least, he’ll blame himself, and I don’t want that either.
It’s not all about him. I don’t know if I could admit what he did, because I liked it enough to come—hard. I’m embarrassed and ashamed, and I don’t know what any of it means. I only know he couldn’t handle it if I told him.
His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. “What did he do to you?”
I’ve hardly told him anything, and already he’s fighting to keep from freaking out. It’s better not to tell him the full truth. “There was no time for anything to happen. Dr. Stone came in for a session.” He must buy it, since his grip on the bars loosens a little, and he doesn’t look quite so much like he’s ready to tear somebody’s head off.
Backing away from the bars, he shakes his hands out, growling. “You see? This is what I was talking about. Why can’t you ever listen to me?”
“What are you talking about?” I can’t let him lose his temper. I need to calm him down, only I don’t know how. I don’t know what’s going on in his head.
“This is why I told you to stay away.” Intensity burns in his eyes until I have to look away. “Now will you listen? What else has to happen for you to figure out I’m not fucking around?”
“I’m not giving up on you.”
“That’s not what this is about. It’s about protecting yourself. From me.” He grips the bars again, squeezing them hard enough that his hands go red. “I can’t trust myself around you. Don’t you get it? I don’t know what I’m doing. What do you think that’s like for me? Coming out of it, thinking nothing’s wrong, and finding out I grabbed you and would have hurt you. It’s torture!” His pained cry echoes off the floors and walls, and rings out in my head loudest of all. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And I know that!”
“But I can’t control it yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.” Slamming his palm against the iron between us, he turns away, cursing and snarling. “You need to go. Stay away this time. I mean it.”
“I’m not going to do that!”
“What do I have to say?” He whirls on me, and the look on his face makes me fall back a step. Like an animal in a cage. That’s basically what he is, though, isn’t it?
“I’ll stay away, like this.” I gesture between us with one hand, reminding him of the space between my body and his. “I can still come around, but I’ll be careful.”
“Goddamnit. I don’t want you to have to be careful. Do you know how that feels? I can see the wheels turning in your head,” he tells me, sounding almost hateful. “Wondering if you’re standing too close. If I’m going to go away all of a sudden and leave you with River. It has to be going through your head—don’t pretend it isn’t. I see it. I feel it. Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” I whisper, trembling but standing tall.
“So you’re honestly going to stand there and tell me you’re not worried at all? Not ever?”
I almost hate him for this. Nobody likes being put on the spot, especially when somebody’s glaring at them the way he is glaring at me. Like all of this is my fault somehow. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to fall in love with him. I didn’t ask for all of the pain in his past, either. “I’m here to help you get through this.”