Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
The cops give me a ride home once I exit the medical center. I rush upstairs, full of manic energy, pacing around, not sure what to do. I end up cleaning the apartment. Seriously, it’s the only way to keep myself busy, mindlessly scrubbing and vacuuming, losing myself in the simplicity of it.
Hours pass with me in this trance. My phone goes off several times: Graham first calling, then texting me.
Graham: We’re so sorry. Let’s talk about this.
There’s nothing to talk about. Perhaps he had a good reason, wanting to care for Ellie. Maybe that was enough of a reason to sabotage Luke’s keynote speech, considering nobody would get hurt. But the rest of it? Switching the numbers? Helping Damien set up a trap for me?
He calls me several more times. I ignore my phone, but then it becomes too much. I can’t stand the noise of the ringtone. Reaching for my phone, I answered without looking at the screen.
“Don’t you get it?” I yell. “I don’t want anything to do with you. I never have – got it?” I’m ranting, saying things I don’t mean, but it comes tumbling out in a flurry of pure hated and betrayal. “You took pity on me, good for you. Should I be grateful? Should I spend the rest of my life on my knees, singing your praises? You’re nothing to me.”
I hang up the phone, then toss it onto the couch. Screw them. I don’t want anything to do with them. Ever. I don’t need anybody…
Except Luke.
Chapter Twenty
Luke
I sit outside her apartment building, staring at my phone. When the private jet landed and all my texts went through to her, I thought maybe things were going to be different. She unblocked my number… that must mean something, right?
But her rant on the phone, telling me she wants nothing to do with me and I’m nothing to her… Why am I even still sitting here? What’s wrong with me? I called her to tell her I’m outside. I flew all this way for her, ignoring countless NeuroDrive responsibilities, so I could be here for her.
And that’s how she treats me. I sigh, running my hand through my hair. If I had any sense, I’d get the hell out of here.
My phone rings. It’s her again. I think about not answering it. She probably wants to yell at me again, but I came all this way. I might as well see this through.
“Sera,” I say, answering. “Are you going to let me speak?”
“I’m sorry,” she replies. “I’ve got a lot to explain. Are you busy?”
I laugh dryly. “Why the sudden change in tone? Are you trying to mess with my head? Is that it?”
“I didn’t mean to block your number. You’re not going to believe my story.”
What twisted game is she playing? “Forget about the number. Are we going to talk about your rant or just pretend it never happened?”
“My… rant.” A pause. “Wait, did you just call me?”
“Yes.”
“Oh God,” she grunts. "I didn’t know it was you! Graham’s been calling me nonstop. I thought it was him. Luke, hell, I would never speak to you like that. I want nothing to do with you. Are you kidding me? I want everything to do with you.”
“So, why did you block my number?”
“Like I said, it’s a lot to explain.”
“Then it’s lucky I’m outside your apartment.”
When she gasps, a smile spreads across my face. It’s the most sincere smile I’ve had in days – since leaving Vegas. “Are you freaking serious?”
“Yes. I took my private jet. My team is pissed, but I’ve worked myself raw for the company for over a decade. I’m taking this time for me, for us.”
She sniffles, then lets out a sob. “I’m—so—happy…”
“What’s wrong? No, wait. I’m coming up. Apartment number seven, right?”
“Yes.”
I rush from the car, running across the street. She buzzes me up and I take the stairs two at a time, sprinting down the hallway when I reach the first floor. She throws her door open. When I see her – messy hair, oversized hoodie, her eyes red from crying – the world suddenly makes sense again.
She throws herself into my arms, gasping like she’s finally able to breathe after too long without oxygen. I rub my hands over her back, holding her tenderly.
“It’s okay, angel,” I whisper when she sobs against my chest. “Whatever happened, I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“It all… fell… apart…”
“And I’m here to help put it together. Come on. Let’s sit you down. You can tell me everything.”
I lead her into her apartment, which is stunningly clean and airy. A smile touches my lips when I see her stack of techy books. I gently sit her down on the couch, then hold her hands, looking into her eyes.
“Start at the beginning,” I say.