Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
In other words, I need a scapegoat, and he’s as good a scapegoat as any.
An arsenal? I can’t keep the word out of my head as I set eggs and butter on the counter while Ren stands at the window, commenting on what a nice day it’s supposed to be. There are so many secrets in that head of his. I stare at his back, hoping he’ll come clean with me yet knowing he won’t. He wouldn’t want to admit he knows these maniacs could be armed.
What happens if we go to Reno and he’s killed? My entire body shudders at the idea, and I have to put down the egg I was about to crack for fear of crushing it in my hand.
No. I can’t even entertain the possibility of losing him.
“Where’d you go?”
His gentle, almost joking question stirs me out of the dark, horrible thoughts racing through my head. One glance his way tells me he’s concerned, watching me closely with his brows drawn together.
“Are you okay? Do you feel sick?”
I shake my head even though that’s exactly how I feel. Sick. Worried half to death. “I’m not sick. I’m worried about you.”
Whoops. So much for keeping my mouth shut.
I can’t shove the words back into my mouth.
He takes it well, chuckling and shrugging like there’s anything to be lighthearted about. “There’s no reason to be.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Because it’s true,” he insists in a tone that reminds me far too much of how the men in my life have always placated their women. Like we’re children, too dim and naive to comprehend their business.
I slap my hand on the counter in impotent fury. I’m tired of it.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
I didn’t mean to yell it—and now, the way he lowers his brow and hits me with a stern look, I regret it. That doesn’t mean I feel any differently, though. In fact, it feels sort of good to let my true thoughts out.
That good, warm, strong feeling is what makes it possible for me to lift my chin even under the weight of his glare.
“I’m sorry for getting upset, but I’ve tried every way I know how to calmly express how concerned I am. What if something happened to you? These people, this cult… I heard you talking to your brother. You mentioned an arsenal.”
He doesn’t blink, merely accepting this. At least he doesn’t bother trying to tell me I’m wrong. If he gaslit me after all this, that might be the last straw.
I might fall to pieces, and I doubt anybody could put me back together.
Not even Ren.
His shoulders sink before a soft sigh eases from between his parted lips.
“I did. We’re assuming they have one in place at the new compound because they had one before, at Safe Haven.”
I can’t keep my voice from shaking as all the emotion I’ve had to bottle up so far threatens to come pouring out. It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Either I let it out or I die from it. “You’re trying to be careful. That’s good. But if they do have an arsenal? What then? You don’t even have a single gun.”
“I could change that.”
“Ren…” He goes blurry an instant before tears spill over my lashes and onto my cheeks. “How is this going to end? How do you honestly see this ending?”
“How do you think? With them regretting they were ever born.”
When all I can do is tip my head to the side while a sob bursts out of me, he groans and scrubs his hands through his hair. “What do you want me to say? We’re going to kill them. We’re putting an end to it.”
“Who are they? How many people does that include? When does it stop?”
“Scarlet—”
I flinch out of the way when he reaches for me because I know how this will end if I let him place a hand on me. I’ll forget why I was so upset in the first place. That’s the power he has over me. The hold. He’s had it since the first day I saw his face and heard his voice, and that hold has only gotten stronger with time.
“I want to talk this out. I need to. Don’t you get that?” I pound my palm against my chest, but it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the idea of losing him.
Not when we’ve finally found our way to each other.
“Okay.” He blows out another sigh that puffs out his cheeks. He’s staying calm. That’s a good sign. Maybe it was the tears or the fact that I won’t let him touch me. He knows I’m serious, how important this is.
The only problem is, now that I have his attention and he’s in control of his temper, I don’t know what to say.
Why not start with the truth? “I love you.”