Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
I wouldn’t blame her.
But then it occurs to me that maybe she’s trying to cling to the familiar. This is the ranch she grew up hating and dreading. She doesn’t know anyone here except me. And I may be the devil, but it’s better to stick with the devil you know than the devil you don’t. Besides, even if she wanted to contact the outside world, I wouldn’t let her.
Turner or not, she’s still the enemy.
“Fine,” I say. “If that’s—”
“Although,” she continues, “she wants you to stay away from her. So you’re going to have to find somewhere else to sleep.”
Fantastic.
At least she’s thinking straight. That makes one of us, because despite just getting all worked up over the fact that she still must want to be close to me, I now feel a piercing pain in my chest knowing that she doesn’t want me around. That tonight, I won’t get to smell her buttercup scent or watch moonlight hit her velvet skin and make it sparkle.
Fuck.
I’m losing my fucking mind, and once again, that’s the last thing I want. “Wasn’t plannin’ on goin’ anywhere near her anyway.”
“What did you do to her?” she asks.
“What do you think I did to her?”
She leans closer and lowers her voice. “You came here with no shirt on because she was wearing it. Did you—”
“Jesus, fuck, why’s everyone so concerned about that?” I burst out. “What I do with my wife is none of your fucking business.”
“From what I hear, she’s not your wife.”
I scrub a hand down my face. “Yeah, people keep remindin’ me of that.” Then, sighing, “Just do me a favor; keep your nose out of my business and look out for her, yeah?”
She frowns and folds her arms across her chest. “Why can’t you do that?”
“Because like you said, she ain’t my wife,” I retort. “And she doesn’t want me around her.”
“Does that bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“That she doesn’t want you around.”
I clench my jaw. “This ain’t keepin’ your nose out of my business.”
She isn’t deterred, though. “I think you should be nice to her.”
I give her a look. Then, sighing, I turn my back to her and get on my way.
“Hey, I was talking to you!” she calls out.
“I wasn’t,” I call out.
“You know I’m right. You know you need to be nice to her,” she calls out again, but I choose to ignore her and keep walking.
I don’t need to be anything to her. In fact, for all intents and purposes, our association is over. She should forget about me, and I sure as fuck will try to forget about her. But first I’ll kill her daddy, her real daddy. It won’t erase the years of abuse and her mother’s death, but the world will be a safer place for her. And then, I’ll do whatever I can to forget about her.
I’M WAITING FOR the other shoe to drop.
So far it hasn’t happened, but I know it’s coming. After Haven left me in his room, I took a long, hot shower. I stood under the water and let it wash away all the caked dirt and blood. The only reason I got out was because my skin was beginning to prune and I was hungry. Which Haven had already predicted because when I got out, there was food waiting for me on the nightstand, along with some clothes on the bed. I was slightly nervous about the clothes, but Haven somehow found me ones that fit me perfectly: a pair of jeans that I’d usually wear if I were going to classes and a simple T-shirt with a hoodie.
Somehow, though, instead of making me feel relief after wearing a dress for almost a week, the change of clothes made me feel sad. It made me feel like things have really come to an end. That I’m Reverie once again. Plain and lonely with a careful, safe, boring life.
Just as I was finishing the food, Haven came in and told me she was supposed to watch me. And that occasionally, Ax might pop in when Haven needed to be somewhere else, but someone would be with me at all times. She said she didn’t like any of it, and I could see she was telling the truth. It made her feel that I was a prisoner—which I am essentially—but she needed to do it because she had promised Arsen.
After breaking the news, Haven asked me if I wanted to help her with dinner and I said yes. I didn’t want to sit in my room, or rather his room, all day worrying about my fate. Only I didn’t know the dinner she needed my help with was going to be all about him. His favorite dishes, his favorite dessert. His favorite everything.
After that reunion I’d seen earlier, I probably should’ve guessed that Haven would make a homecoming dinner for the man who lost eight years of his life behind bars. As I helped her, I wondered if she knew who Annie was. And if I asked her, if she would tell me. But I refrained, of course. It was none of my business, and no matter how friendly she looked, she was still in the Grayson camp. Although, I did feel bad for her because she took such pains in cooking dinner for him and he never showed up.