Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
“You’re not ready,” Adam argues.
“Ready for what? To see my husband?” That’s ridiculous. “This is not your decision to make.”
His eyes slowly look over my body, and I roll mine. I’ve been seeing a doctor. I’ve been cleared. I still get winded easily, and I can only walk for short periods of time, but for the most part, I’m me. I feel better. But I don’t care if I was in a fucking coma; he should not have kept Kash from me.
I get up and slowly walk over to Bill and do what I never thought I’d do in my life. “Daddy, please,” I beg the man that took me in. He saved me to give me a better life, and this is my better life. To be with Kashton. “He needs me.” My husband’s been lied to, and he’s hurting. “I need him.”
“I don’t think—”
“It’s fine,” Bill interrupts Adam, and I want to throw myself into his arms and cry happy tears.
Adam clenches his jaw and narrows his eyes on him. Obviously, that’s not what they’ve discussed.
I couldn’t care less. At least one of them is on my side. “Where is he?” I’ll fucking walk there if I have to.
“Adam will take you,” Bill assures me, but his eyes are on Adam.
“Take me to him. Now,” I order and turn my back on them. I don’t have my cell phone or my wedding ring. All I have is a set of clothes that Adam and Bill gave me—a T-shirt and sweatpants. They’re not even mine. Who knows where they came from.
“You’ll wear this until Adam removes it,” Bill states, pulling a blindfold from the inside of his suit jacket.
My wide eyes go to his, my heart racing. “Why?”
“You either wear it or you stay here.” He leaves no room to argue, shaking the black fabric.
I yank it from his hands and slide it over my eyes. If this is what gets me to my husband… Taking in a shaky breath, my sight is taken away, and I hold out my right hand and say, “I’m ready.”
The blindfold is yanked from my eyes, and I look around. Nothing but trees and a two-lane road. The clock on the dash shows its almost midnight.
Adam doesn’t speak to me, and I have nothing to say to him. He’s betrayed his brother.
I still don’t know where we were or why I was with Adam and Bill. They never told me, and believe me, I asked. They pretended like I didn’t. And honestly, I’m not sure if it even matters. I was drugged for most of my stay. This morning was the first time I was allowed out of bed to use the restroom on my own and got to shower. I still feel lightheaded, hungover-like, and starving.
He pulls off the road and comes to a stop at a motel next to a biker bar. My teeth grind that this is where he is. “You’ve known the whole fucking time,” I growl.
“He’s in room 111.”
“Is this a joke?”
“No.” Adam sighs, relaxing into the driver’s seat. “I’ll wait here.” His green eyes meet mine. “Don’t fuck him.”
“Excuse me?” I snap.
“You heard me.” His eyes drop to my chest. “You’re not healed.” Then he looks away. “He’ll be rough. You’ll get injured, and then you’re back in the hospital, setting your recovery back.”
I don’t respond to that. I get out, slam the car door, and rush into the motel room.
Without knocking, I turn the handle, and it opens. The door squeaks as I step inside. It’s darkly lit with a single lamp that buzzes in the far corner. I broke the other one. There’s still no TV, and it makes my chest ache. He always has to sleep with the TV on. The research I’ve done shows that those who feel abandoned need to feel as if they’re not alone. The noise from a TV gives them the illusion that someone is in the room with them.
The place smells of booze and cigarettes. Worse than I remember.
Stepping forward, glass crunches under my shoes. The mirror wall is shattered, and I see my wedding ring along with a folded piece of paper on the table.
I pick it up and unfold it. Silently, I read over it.
Turning, I see him lying in the middle of the bed naked. He’s so tall that his feet hang off the end. He’s on his stomach, arms fanned out, the pillows and blankets on the floor.
Tears silently run down my face after reading his letter to Saint and Haidyn. What happened that he thought I’d died? What or who did he bury that he thought was me? Was it a body burned past recognition? A fake body? Wouldn’t Devin have run blood work?
If I thought Kashton were dead, I would do everything imaginable to question it. I wouldn’t accept it.