Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“Water,” he says.
I take it, unscrewing the cap and chugging some down. The water has a minty aftertaste, like the youth water. It’s nice and cool, and I take a few more sips before giving the flask back to him. He drains it, then places it on the tile table.
“Why did you come here?” I ask as he stands by the table, his back to me.
“To get away.”
“From what?”
He side-eyes me. “Everything.”
“Your family is looking for you.”
“I don’t need them looking for me.”
“They care about you, Caz.”
He says nothing to that. Instead, he strips out of his coat and places it over the back of one of the steel chairs. He stands there, shirtless, his skin creamy between the black veins.
“Will those go away?”
“Not sure.” He moves to a small door, swings it open, and takes out a long-sleeved shirt that looks to be made of black silk. When he slides his arms into it, he leaves the front of it unbuttoned, then digs into his back pocket, pulling out a platinum case. He takes a bloom out of it.
“How did you get back?” He sits at the table and lights the end of the bloom. He offers one to me from the case, but I shake my head.
“I thought of Silvera.”
“You did, eh?” He takes another pull, then releases a cloud of smoke. “Didn’t know it worked that way.” He pauses, looking me all over. “And how’d you find me?”
“I followed her. Maeve told me Silvera might be linked to Cerberus, and I assume she found you through him.”
“Hmm.” He takes a few more pulls, releases the smoke, then grabs the ashtray on the table, stabbing the lit end out and killing the flame. “You weren’t supposed to come back, Willow.”
“I know, but I’ve been worried.”
“About me?” He scoffs, a humorless smile riding his lips.
“Is it so hard to believe people actually care about you?”
His eyes flicker from the ashtray to mine, and he raises his chin. I realize that’s a statement of bad timing. After seeing how he was treated in those hurricane visions, I get why he’s afraid to trust.
“It was foolish of you to return. The Tether. It could kill us.”
“I don’t believe that anymore.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“Because I found a book from my world. A woman talked about the same Tether we have—the Cold Tether. She believes those who are Tethered are supposed to be together. She says when she left the other world and went back to see her lover, he was dead.”
He narrows his eyes briefly before dropping his hands. “Juniper thinks the same.” He taps a finger on the tabletop. “Maeve sent her to speak to Alora and Beatrix behind my back.”
“Why would Beatrix tell us to stay away from each other if we’re actually supposed to be around each other?”
“I’m not sure, but either she’s a liar or she had reason to warn us.”
I sit against the back of the chair and take another look around the cabin. It’s quiet here. Cozy. I can see why he came to this place.
“Does anyone else know about this place?”
“No one but you.”
I don’t know how that makes me feel, but it’s not bad. I’m quiet another moment before asking, “Where is your mom now?”
He doesn’t react on the outside, but I feel the heavy clench in his chest and the nerves shooting into his stomach. “No longer here.” He pushes out of his chair, walking across the cabin, his boots thumping on the wood. He tosses logs into the fireplace and then lights a match, starting a fire.
“I saw you with the gun in your office.” I stand but keep a distance between us. Sort of hard to do when we’re in a house the size of a bedroom.
“I own lots of guns.”
“You know what I mean.”
He drops his head, agitated. “Just let it be.”
“No, I won’t just let it be.” I walk closer, minimizing the gap between us. “Why do you want to die so badly?”
He turns to me. “What is there to live for? You’ve seen my world. It’s cruel, and I didn’t sign up for any of this shit.”
“Sure, it’s cruel, but you clearly bring order to it. If you go, who else will do it?
“There are plenty of people out there who can do a much better job than I can.”
“There may be, but right now it’s you. You’re the one in charge. You’re the one who can make the differences.”
“I’m not in charge by choice. This role isn’t something I went after. It was shoved into my hands.”
I let his words marinate before walking around him. I stand in front of him and start to reach for his hands, but he stops me, clasping my wrists and holding them in the air.
“There’s only so much I can take,” he rasps.