Total pages in book: 173
Estimated words: 168701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 844(@200wpm)___ 675(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 844(@200wpm)___ 675(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
She moistens her lips, and her expression reminds me of the girl I saw in that field of flowers seven years ago. So much so, it feels like a blade sinking into my chest.
“Can I give all these records to you since you’re here? Can you take them back to your village and give them to Bailey to save Kathleen the trouble?”
I stare blankly as what she’s just said to me tries to penetrate the shield I’ve built over the past several days.
My chest is on fire. My hands shake and I’m sure she notices.
When I don’t answer, she pops her trunk and reaches in, pulling out a banker’s box.
I see a brunette sitting in the passenger seat. A brunette that looks an awful lot like Erica Young, too. She gives me a look loaded with meaning but says nothing as Jessica sets a box on the ground before reaching in and pulling out another, which she passes to me. I stare blankly at the box in my arms.
She lifts the first from the ground and walks it to my pickup truck, three spaces from her vehicle.
“Going home?” she asks.
“None of your business,” I manage, putting the boxes in the truck.
“She suffers, Riley,” Jessica says softly, setting the box on concrete. “She’s suffered as long as you have. Hear her out. Her answers aren’t good ones, but she’s grown up a lot since then; she had no choice but to do so when faced with the consequences of her actions, which came from the longing of her heart rather than from something nefarious. Her punishment was much harsher than it needed to be. She’s got the most beautiful heart I’ve ever known.”
She gives me a look loaded with meaning before she walks away from me and gets into her car.
I immediately turn away.
What she’s said makes no sense to me.
Why the fuck would the witch hide from me for all this time if she’s suffering for it? Why save herself for me? What? Hope that I’ll forgive her when she knew she left me thinking she was dead for all this time? I don’t get it. Any of it.
Inside, I know there’s only one way to find out.
I also know I’m not going there.
Every fiber of my being tells me I need to keep my distance from the witch who shattered me. The witch oozing with so much pain that I can’t handle how it makes me feel. Is Tyson right? That I stay away to protect her from my anger? I don’t even know. It feels more like I need to protect myself from her pain, which I can’t wrap my mind around. Which I can’t stand. I can’t stand that she hurts this much. I can’t understand how she hurts this much yet did nothing about it. None of it makes sense.
I glance over my shoulder and then look away knowing Jessica and the other sister watch me walk to my motel.
***
There’s a knock on my door as I shut the shower off. And I’m pissed off as I pull on my boxers, thinking it might be Jessica again. As I open the door, my nose tells me before I see her that it’s the bartender. Though she told me it, I can’t remember her name.
She smiles, jiggling a bottle of whisky as her eyes travel across my chest, which is still wet.
“Sorry, babe. Not gonna happen tonight.”
Her expression drops before she breathes out, “Oh.”
And then she pouts. And I’d find it very fuckin’ cute if this were seven years back.
“I’m tryin’ to get over someone who fucked me over pretty bad. Thought I was ready. I’m not.”
She waits a beat, then says, “I see. You know where to find me if you change your mind some other night. Have a good one.” She turns but then stops and looks over her shoulder. “You sure? Sometimes the best way to get someone out of your system is to let another someone in.”
That’s what I’d been thinking before Jessica Young talked to me tonight. “Have a good night, babe.”
“Okay, well, goodnight then.” Her eyes travel my body and I know she’s disappointed. I smell her arousal and it’s doing nothing for me. Part of me wishes that wasn’t true. The other part of me is dominant right now because I’m taking Jessica Young’s advice by not doing something I might regret. And I’m not sure how to feel about it as I watch the bartender wander off.
I’m about to shut the door when something hits my nose that has me bristling. I take a deeper pull of the humid night air. Two shifters. Two shifters I don’t know.
They’re not within fifty feet of me, the scent is too faint, but I suspect they’re here at this motel. My nose is weak right now and I don’t like that.