Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Dad’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, Lily girl.”
My eyes match his tear-for-tear. I sniffle through quivering lips, “It won’t bring him back to me.” Suddenly furious, I lean forward and hiss, “I deserve to be happy. And I was happy with him!”
Understanding dawns on my father’s face. Mom grips my hand tightly.
Dad responds quietly, “Oh, Lily. I didn’t realize you’d—oh, darling. I’m so sorry.”
The anger melts away. Dipping my chin, I whisper, “He was it for me. We were meant to find each other.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Dad opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Mom squeezes my hand again. “Tell me what you need, honey. Anything. I want to help.”
The anger returns with a vengeance. “You think a cup of cocoa will fix this?” My parents wear matching expressions of sadness. It just peeves me off even further. I screech, “You think a sandwich or a fucking cookie will fix this?”
Mom starts, “Baby, I-”
Looking away, I order, “Out.” Mom stops talking. I repeat, “Get out.”
We sit in silence for a minute before my parents, obviously hurt, stand to leave. When I hear them move towards the door, I call out, “I want Terah. Bring me Terah.”
I need my sister.
***
Seven hours later…
Tired, sore, and seriously pissed off, I roll my eyes when I hear a faint knock at the door.
I’m tired because of the sedatives they’ve been feeding me. I’m sore because my forearm, knees, and forehead are torn to shreds. And I’m pissed off because I want to go home where I can mourn the death of my boyfriend in peace. I bark, “What?” before turning to the door.
At the sight of my equally tired sister, I gasp. She offers a small smile, then asks, “Can I come in?”
Not trusting myself to speak, I nod and she walks over to me. Climbing onto the bed, she sits close to me, sitting up. Her arms open to me. I look at her through glossy eyes before I sink into her, resting my cheek onto her chest.
Terah rocks me gently, placing soft kisses on top of my head.
So many thoughts drift through my head, but regardless of how many there are, they always come back to Nox. A sob bursts out of me.
Then another.
And another.
Terah coos, “I’m so sorry, kid. I love you so much. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
She rocks me as I cry openly and freely for well passed an hour. Finally calming, I ask, “Where’s Jett?”
Her body stiffens at his name. No doubt Jonathon told her about what his plan was. After a moment’s silence, she says, “Gone, sweetie. They both are.”
Taking a moment for that to sink in, I realize I’ll be mourning for more than one person today. “How?”
Terah’s voice hitches, “Jamie was found in the apartment. Two gunshot wounds to his chest. Jett got too close to the explosions at the safe house you were kept at. He bled out on the back lawn. Jon said he had glass shrapnel all over his body. A shard of glass pierced his stomach.”
Sounding a little too indifferent, she states, “Jon said it would’ve been a painful way to die.”
I simply nod.
I need to change the subject. I can’t stand to talk about this, or even listen to it. Sniffing, I ask, “You coming home or you staying with Jon?”
The mood in the air changes. She cuddles me to her. “No, kid. I’m staying with you. We’re going home.”
I love her for that, but explain quietly, “I don’t know how long home will be home for.”
And she gets me. Offering her support, she states, “As long as you stay, I’ll stay, too. If you move on, I’ll move on, too. We’ll do it at your pace, honey. There’s no rush.”
Twelve hours later with clearance from the doctor, we head for home.
Chapter Twenty
That’s life
Lily
I can’t eat.
I can’t sleep.
I want to die.
Chapter Twenty-One
A new beginning
Lily
Today is the first day of the rest of my life.
***
Terah uses her knees to push the sofa to the right. Stepping back, we both tilt our heads and look. Both shaking our heads, we return to the sofa, and push further left.
Stepping back again, we survey our handy work. We smile at each other.
It’s perfect.
Okay, so that’s completely laughable. And if you saw my apartment, you’d understand why.
My father is devastated.
He begged me not to move. His begging turned into threats. I grew sick of the arguing, and decided silence was the better option. The day after I told him about the apartment, he sent me an email saying he’d added funds to my account to help me start my new life, and to please be safe.
Yep. An email.
We haven’t spoken much since I came home.
But I was glad he gave in. Not that I need his permission.
The thrill of victory I’d told myself I’d feel never actually came. There was a small part of me that felt guilty for taking that money, but the larger part of me said I needed to do this. I need to live my life. That’s the part I listened to.