Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
A hand flies to my throat, instantly cutting off my airway. Shocked at the brutality, my eyes pop open and there, standing in front of me with the ski mask removed, is Bryant.
Ever died multiple times? Just love the wrong man.
- Isa
Confusion wraps itself around all of the particles in my brain. “Bryant?”
He releases me, stumbling back against the wall. I watch as he slowly slides down, dragging his knees up to his chest. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“I—” I pause. “It’s you?”
He brings his cold, emotionless eyes to mine. “Yes, the fuck it’s me.”
“You were going to kill me?” I gasp, a new wave of pain washing over me. My trust for Bryant will be broken forever after this. There will be no repairing it. He tried to kill me while I was most vulnerable. He sided with my father. He didn’t get shot.
He gestures down to my feet. “No. I was freeing you. Now tell me.” He glares at me, and I blink past the tears, the pain slowly disappearing when I see that one of my legs is free. “Is. It. True.” Amongst that, I didn’t consider what Bryant might feel for me once he finds out the truth. I have to tell him, though, I can’t keep it from him anymore.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” Shit way to start, but it was the first thing that came out.
“Really?” He glares at me. I watch as the corners of his jaw tense and release. “Could have fucking fooled me.”
Breathing in and out, I sigh in defeat. “Harper is alive. She wasn’t hurt, Bryant. Brianna was, that’s where the blood came from.” I swallow again, in an attempt to calm myself, or at the very least stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks. “Jess’s date who was there that day was a surgeon. He checked her over thoroughly at his private practice. It wasn’t our plan to keep her from you, but I saw it that day. The chaos that I existed in. Our daughter was caught in the crossfire of our own creation, I didn’t want that for her. Not ever.” I pause, and I shouldn’t have.
“That wasn’t your fucking decision to make, Isa.”
I can’t even look at him. Like a coward, I find a spot on the wall to train my eyes on.
“When my father carried me into the limo, before transporting me to the asylum, I called Jess and told her to run and take Harper with her while creating a plan to deflect you from the fact that she wasn’t dead. But you didn’t make it hard, because you wanted her cremated.” I finally bring my eyes to his. “I know you will never forgive me for this, but I was going to tell you. As soon as I left the cabin, I was going to tell you immediately, but then I was once again reminded about the dangers that surround your life.”
He hasn’t blinked. Hasn’t moved. Not an inch.
“You live a dangerous life, Bryant. We almost lost her.”
He sneers at me, kicking his legs out in front of him. “You know what’s fucking funny about this whole fucking thing, Isa?” he snaps, and I watch as his lip curls up in a nasty grin. He stands back to his feet, the atmosphere charging to life as he leans down, placing both hands on either side of my chair. “Is I fucking knew all along.”
You can’t love the pain out of someone, but you can love them despite it.
-Bryant
I watch as a range of emotions sprawl over her face.
From shock.
To relief.
To… fear. Good. She fucking should fear me. For months, I have been going backward and forward with Jessica on Harper. I shouldn’t have let it drag out this long, but when we all thought she was certifiably crazy, Jessica reached out to me.
“Wait, what?” she asks. “So you—” I watch as what I assume a memory comes into her head. “I saw you with Harper one time.”
“Yeah. You did. But you were going through your Brooke phase.”
Leaning down, I cut off the rest of her ties. She stands to her feet, massaging her wrists. “Why? Why would you keep this up? For what purpose.”
I pause, studying her closely. “Simple, really.” There’s a beat of silence. “Trust.” I start walking out the door when she reaches for my arm.
I pull away from her. “Bryant, you can’t hold that against me.”
“What? Are you fucking crazy? Actually, don’t fucking answer that. It took you this long to tell me. How long, huh?” I start backing her up against the wall. She’s quick to run away from me, which was always one of the reasons why she was smart, despite the way her brain worked.
“How long what?” Her eyes fling between mine.
When her back is pressed against the wall, I bring my hands up and rest them on either side of her head. “How long until you were going to tell me that my daughter was fucking alive.”