Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
I knew all that, but my brain refused to command my body to do anything other than sit there and bask in that little bit of warmth Lincoln’s skin offered mine.
Every fucking day.
The way he’d said those words told me he got it. He understood what it meant to keep secrets. He knew that sometimes the only thing you could do to keep a secret was to run from it. Always be a step ahead of it.
“Okay,” I heard myself whisper as my brain finally began to take control of my wayward body again. I let myself get lost in the fiery pain that was now consuming my entire arm so that I could force myself to release his fingers. The knowledge that I was trusting this man to keep his word made me want to throw up all over again. I actually had to swallow down a rush of bile that escaped my cramping stomach when Lincoln began settling me back in his bed. I should have reminded him that he’d said I would be in my own bed, but I couldn’t find my voice as my body seemed to turn into one huge raw nerve.
Everything hurt.
The scrape of the blanket over my legs as Lincoln drew it over me.
The hardness of the mattress that made it feel like my bones were going to burst through my flesh at any moment.
Pain was a funny thing for me. It was my salvation in so many ways but only because of what it represented.
Control.
Pain was only useful to me if I was the one in control of it. When I had no control, it was like every other second of my life I was… lost. I was running wildly through a forest of darkness that had no end.
“Theo, are you okay to take pain medication?” I heard Lincoln ask.
I knew why he was asking. If I was fucked up enough in the head to cut my own skin, it wasn’t a big leap to assume I did other things to dull my pain.
I nodded. I wasn’t an addict. Drugs were a step I’d been too afraid to take aside from a few pills when I’d needed them most. There was no control when that shit hit your system. It controlled you. That was the last thing I needed.
“Okay, hold on, sweetheart, it’ll get better in a minute.”
I had my eyes closed, so I couldn’t see Lincoln’s expression when he spoke the words, but that one little endearment was like a lifeline in a sea of nothingness. I knew he’d probably only said it like an adult often did to a child to comfort them, but I pretended it was different.
That it was more.
“Do you have any allergies?”
“No,” I croaked because I was afraid shaking my head would cause it to explode.
It seemed like hours, days even, before I felt like I could breathe again. Warmth began to spread through my veins like the sweetest of treats. I wanted to cry in relief. It wasn’t until I felt Lincoln’s fingers on my cheek, his thumb gently moving back and forth over my cheekbone, that I realized I was crying.
I should have been horrified that the man was witnessing yet another weakness on my part, but that warmth was too potent to care much about anything.
Can’t let go…
The harsh little reminder tried to drown out the tingling that was following the slow slide of that warmth in my blood but even if I could have done something to regain control of myself, of my reaction to Lincoln’s touch, whatever drug he’d given me was too strong and it was the words themselves that were drowned out.
My body felt tired and heavy yet weightless at the same time, but I was strangely hyperaware of Lincoln’s touch. I actually reached my own hand up to close around the wrist of the hand that was cradling my cheek.
But I didn’t try to force the hand away. No, I wanted to keep it there.
I needed it there.
I fought the lure of the darkness that made it impossible to open my eyes so I could confirm Lincoln was still there… that he wasn’t a figment of my imagination.
That he hadn’t left me.
The fingers on my cheek tightened a tiny bit and I swore I felt further evidence of Lincoln’s presence on my other cheek. Not his fingers, though… something softer. Something that ghosted over the damp skin before it was gone and a gentle wash of air replaced it.
“You can let go, baby. I’ve got you.”
The whispered words were spoken right against my ear, meaning Lincoln’s face was achingly close to my own. Had it been his lips that had felt like silk against my skin just seconds earlier?
And that endearment… that had been real, right?
I needed him to say it again, so I knew that it had been real. I needed to turn my head so I could feel those lips against mine. Would they still feel like silk?