Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 589(@200wpm)___ 471(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I almost feel excited. I wouldn’t have to be brave or strong anymore. Maybe I’ll be reincarnated and come back in a better home. Maybe I’ll just vanish entirely. Anything is better than this. Anything.
I pick up the pace, running now, a low branch slices across my cheek and the tears that fall from my eyes sting the shallow wound. I stumble and fall twice but pick myself up quickly. I don’t look back. I don’t have regrets.
I’m not even scared of this. I’m more scared of life.
The trees clear and I see the boats attached to the jetty. I start to walk, out of breath, and approach the wood that holds the rope keeping the rickety little boats in place. I untie it and wrap it around my arm. The boat rocks side to side, just looking at it is making me nauseous.
My adrenaline spikes, my heart is racing, beating a fast rhythm in my throat. I could actually do this. I could actually get in this boat, let myself float out and just drop in. Hot tears fall and my teeth chatter. I try to convince myself otherwise because my brother will miss me, but really he’s all I have and he’s never around anymore. I’m a burden to him. He’d be free without me. All I do is disappoint him with how weak I am. He tells me all the time that I’m weak, that I need to be stronger but how can I be stronger than I am?
The mind isn’t a bicep. Mine is deteriorating. I’m tired, so tired. Not just of life but of sleep too. Of the nightmares, of the guilt, of the feeling that nobody truly loves me for me. Not even my brother.
I look around and nod. I’m resolute.
This is the best decision for everyone.
“Okay,” I whisper and put one foot in the boat. “I can do this.”
Fear is such a heady, consuming feeling. It’s natural to fear an element you can’t conquer. But my fear of living beats it until it’s nothing and I sit down and shuffle until my legs are over the wooden edge and my foot is touching the wobbling vessel.
Tears are still soaking my cheeks despite my lack of feeling. That could be the alcohol but really I think I’m just numb to life now.
“What are you doing?” Kane’s voice cuts through the silence. It really is quite silent out here. Beautiful too.
I grit my teeth and pull my foot out of the boat. “Why are you here?”
“Followed you,” he admits, his voice deep and gruff.
I climb unsteadily to my feet and glower at him. His blue eyes are so vibrant, even in the dark. Maybe Maisy was right, maybe I do look at him in a weird way.
“Why?” I ask, forcing my anger through my tone. “Why must you always, always bother me? I don’t do anything to you.”
He lights a cigarette between his lips and smirks at me as smoke blows from his mouth. “Wanted to see your panties.”
“You know what? Fine,” I snarl. “You want to see my panties? I’ll show you. I’ll show you every single fucking inch of me if it means you’ll leave me alone!” I yank up my crop top, forgetting that I don’t have a bra on underneath and his cigarette falls from his mouth and lands on the moist earth. The warm, balmy air hits my breasts and my nipples immediately tighten.
I drop the top beside his dead cigarette and stand in front of him naked from the waist up.
“More?” I ask, slurring. “Want me to take these off? Want to see my panties?”
He stares at me, dumfounded, eyes wide and on my tits, lips parted and dry.
“I’m not wearing any panties,” I whisper and he gulps. His throat bobs with it.
When I pop open the button, uncaring about anything right now, his demeanor changes. He seems to shake himself free of whatever stupor I put him in. With a quick move he scoops up my top and throws it at me. I manage to catch it against my chest.
“Put your shirt back on,” he demands, scowling at me.
“You asked to see,” I argue, holding it tight like a shield. “You asked. You always asked!”
“To piss you off!” he yells, looking at me as though I’m nothing. “Not because I actually wanted to fucking see you. Christ, Imogen, I’m not that desperate.” He picks up his cigarette and throws it in the lake, then he pops another one between his lips and lights it. “But if you’re desperate for a bit of me, Immy, I wouldn’t mind getting my cock sucked.”
I pull my top back on and level him with a glare. “Go on then. Get it out.”
He snorts and inhales his cancer stick. “Naw, you’ll fuckin’ bite it.”