Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
It’s not right. It’s not fair. A man cannot take away my whole life and then walk. I cannot live knowing that he is enjoying freedom while my parents reside six feet under. Everyone has a calling in life. This is mine. Seeking revenge—justice—for the death of my parents is my calling.
But …
The woman before me could quite possibly kill me before I get the chance to avenge my parents’ deaths. Loving her hurts … Some days I swear it hurts worse than the loss of my parents. Today is one of those days. I’ve said the unimaginable and done the unforgivable. And now I’m the one with the knife lodged into my heart. With every look she twists it a little deeper.
Every time she refuses to eat.
Every time she refuses to drink.
Every time she refuses my touch.
Every word. God … the words. She’s obliterated me with words.
It’s not just the words; it’s how she says them. Her voice, the vacant look in her eyes. It’s that she means them. I can’t find an ounce of life in her expression.
“Drink.” I lift her head and tip the glass of water to her mouth. She doesn’t even blink. She also doesn’t fight me. I keep tipping the glass until she drinks the last drop of water.
Show me some fucking life.
She hasn’t been here that long. The woman before me is not suffering from starvation or dehydration. She just fell in love with the wrong guy. It’s true—I am worse than the cancer.
“I’m leaving. You’re not tied up. Your purse is over there on the floor. Your car keys are in it. The guns are not in your trunk anymore.”
Please leave.
Save yourself.
Hate me. I need you to hate me so that you can let me go.
Then go …
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
My name is Scarlet Stone and kids make fun of my name. I don’t understand what’s wrong with my name.
Scarlet
Theo leaves. I collapse onto the mattress and close my eyes. When all the life inside is gone, there is nowhere to go except in dreams. What happens when dreams die? What happens when the mind can’t find any more stories? What happens when thoughts die before they ever truly form?
Time passes. Minutes? Hours? My mind can’t make sense of it. I stopped counting: minutes, seconds, breaths.
“Goddammit! Why are you still here?” Theo is so mad at me. Why is he mad at me? I love him. I’m his song.
“If I find you passed out, when I find you passed out, I’m not calling for an ambulance. If you want to kill yourself, a gun would be a helluva lot easier.”
“You have to leave! Open your eyes.” Pain. There’s so much pain to that voice. I can hear it, but I can’t feel it. I can’t feel anything. I like not feeling anything.
Fuck you, cancer.
I pull the trigger.
Nothing.
“I take your life. You don’t get the fucking choice. Do you understand?”
Calloused hands grip my face. I fight the heavy weight, the bright light, and blink open my eyes.
“You,” I whisper. “You take it.”
Theo’s forehead wrinkles, eyes squinted. “Take what?”
“My life.”
His jaw clenches and I see something I never thought I’d see—tears. They fill his eyes like he’s choking on his next breath. “Jesus …” He presses his forehead to mine, squeezing his eyes shut, and his tears fall onto my face and become mine. Silent sobs wrack his body. “I can’t take your life …” The words rip from his throat. “So, fuck you…” more tears “…because you’ve already taken mine.” He grips my face harder. “You’ve ruined the man I need to be…” more sobs “…You’ve turned me into a fucking failure because all I want to do is this.”
Theo kisses me, slow at first, then more urgent. I don’t kiss him back. I can’t. Everything is still too numb—my lips, my hands, my heart.
His mouth moves to my cheek, my jaw, my neck.
Nothing.
He releases another sob. My heart tries to feel it, but it can’t. It’s too late.
“Don’t … don’t do this.” His mouth covers mine again.
Nothing.
I should cry. I’ve waited so long for him to give me this. I blink.
Nothing.
Pushing away, he kneels by the mattress, sitting back on his heels. He rips off his gray beanie, exposing his closely buzzed hair. His hands cover his face, shoulders curled inward, body shaking. “No … no … no… Scarlet …” He whispers my name like he’s using his last breath to say it.
I gasp as if his last breath is my first. One blink and tears run down my face. My heart drums with so much pain … pain that I feel.
Theodore Reed has never said my name. Not. One. Single. Time.
Until now.
Inch by slow inch, I bring myself to sitting on the edge of the mattress in front of him. My hands wrap around his wrists. He sucks in a shaky breath and holds it as I pull his hands away from his face. When he releases his breath it’s everything.