Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“By the time Saylor was ten, her dad had to step down as the head of the Mississippi branch. It was a weird time for everyone. He’d been running it since he was twenty-eight.”
He took a long pull from his cigarette, and I waited. Wanting to know more. Wanting to hear about anything he would tell me.
“So, preteen years hit. Crosby and his pretty-boy face won her heart. They became a couple as junior high rolled around. With her dad no longer being as active in her life because of his disease and the battle he faced every day with it, she got what one might call daddy issues. She found her importance in her relationship with Crosby.” He paused and glanced back at Than for a moment.
Then, he continued, “Crosby was the kind that commanded a room when he walked in. He was all smiles and charm. He was a really big-ass light, and everyone around him just became a part of that light or headed to the shadows. While he loved Saylor, like we all do, he was never in love with her. He just didn’t realize the difference. They’d become a habit. Saylor tried harder to be the best. She morphed into everything she thought Crosby wanted. I saw it, but I always paid attention to Saylor. Crosby was more self-absorbed.”
“Easy,” Than said, his tone a warning.
Gathe gave him an annoyed glance. “Saylor is a leader. She just didn’t know it because she wasn’t given the chance. Don’t get me wrong; she has always had a sassy mouth, she’s always been spunky as hell, and she doesn’t take shit off anyone. But she grew up with a bunch of boys and learned early how to handle them. It was just Crosby she was different with.
“She’d always get these ideas. Once, it was the damn Salvation Army trees, where she had us going to get the kids’ Christmas lists and buying all the gifts for them. Then, she wanted us to help her with a fundraiser for the local pet shelter when she found out they didn’t have enough funds to keep all the animals alive. The list goes on. She saw a need, and she wanted to fix it. Crosby always talked her out of it. He didn’t want to be pulled into her ideas and convinced her to let it go. The day came when she stopped them altogether. One more step in forgetting who she was.”
He stopped and sucked in the nicotine as he stared at me. I waited.
“You gonna interrupt, beg for your freedom, cry?” he asked.
“No.” The word was raspy. My throat felt like sandpaper. “I’m listening.”
Gathe’s nose lifted in a snarl. He wanted me to suffer. I was already doing that in ways far worse than physical.
“Then, Crosby was killed. Shot down while she was walking right beside him. He was gone in minutes. We were all rocked. She mourned him, withdrew—we all did to an extent. Then, Halo showed up in our lives. Pregnant with Crosby’s baby. Then, there was all this proof from a burner phone he had left behind that he had been so in love with Halo that he had planned on leaving the family to have her.” He inhaled deeply, the cigarette clamped between his teeth.
I realized I hated a dead guy.
“That was what broke her. She finally shattered. Everything she’d thought she had, all those years loving him, changing for him, and he hadn’t loved her back. Not the way she wanted. Not the way she deserved.”
He pointed at me with the cigarette between his fingers. “Then, you came along. She’s smiling again. Happy. Starts to remember what she enjoys. What she excels at. And you soak it in. Enjoy her. Let her fall in love with you, and you crushed her. Left her, only for her to get drunk and ramble on while she cried on my shoulder about how she’s unlovable and she wants to be someone’s goddamn Halo.”
He gets in my face then, but I don’t flinch. “You—YOU—did that to her. Because you love a dead girl. Well, lucky for you, I plan on sending you to see her once again.”
The force of his fist into my ribs took my breath, and I gasped for air.
“You sorry-ass son of a bitch!” His words were just below a roar as his next hit landed on my jaw.
Warm blood ran from my nose. I said nothing, waiting for more. Needing it. Every hit I deserved. If they could cause enough physical pain, maybe it would ease the internal.
Another hit, and my teeth rattled. I spit out a molar as the taste of copper filled my mouth. The whirring in my head made it hard to hear his words. Some of them were shouted, and I could catch pieces. The message was clear—I’d hurt someone they loved. This was payback. For her, I would endure it until I couldn’t hold on anymore.