Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
I reach up to my face and drag my hands down my bristle, resting my forehead on the wood of the door. Why is she even here if she’s just going to punish me like this?
I drag myself back downstairs and find my phone charging in the kitchen. I call Sam, and he answers fast, his tone soft. Concerned. “Please don’t ask how I am,” I say, my voice rough as I pace in front of the terrace doors, up and down. I look at the staircase again. Hear the shower.
“Mate, don’t ever do that to me again,” he warns, and I swallow, nodding. “I swear to fucking God, I’ll kill you myself. You won’t need vodka. How’s Ava?”
My eyes are still on the stairs. “Distant,” I say simply because that’s exactly what she is. Here but not here. Caring but not caring.
“Give her time, man. It’s a lot to take in.”
“How did Kate take it?” I make my way to the kitchen to get more water, so fucking thirsty.
He’s silent, and I frown. It actually makes my head bang. Just a frown. “Quite well.” He sounds reluctant. Wary.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing?”
“Talk,” I order, necking my water in one fell swoop. Has Kate said something to him I should know? Something to do with Ava? My heart starts to pound.
“I need a guest pass for The Manor,” he blurts out fast, and the frown that was hurting doubles in size and pain.
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it, Jesse.”
It hits me like a boulder, and I rest my glass slowly down on the counter. “Fuck,” I breathe. “For Kate?”
“Of course for Kate,” he breathes. “For fuck’s sake. But you can’t mention anything to Ava.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, very. And Drew took Victoria out for dinner last night to ask her if she wanted to explore—”
“Jesus Christ,” I huff out my disbelief, traipsing back to the lounge, trying not to feel unreasonable resentment. Not that I’d want to take Ava into the rooms of The Manor, of course. Never. “Fine. It’s not like I’m not keeping enough of my own secrets, is it? What’s one more?” I collapse to the couch on a grunt.
“You need to be rid of those secrets.”
“Are you fucking insane? Did you miss the fucking shitstorm that just happened?” I snort to myself. “She can barely look me in the eye, Sam. And you want me to add to the list of reasons for her to leave me for good?” Not a fucking chance in hell. I’ll die first. Seeing Ava so obviously distraught is enough to protect her—and myself—from more pain. “Have fun at The Manor.” I hang up and let my head drop back, closing my eyes.
I shouldn’t have. Faces. So many faces from my past, the faces of people I love, pass through my mind like a reminder of all I have lost. Jacob. Rosie. Carmichael. I squeeze my eyes tighter, trying to suppress the memories from creeping forward.
“God, Jake, no!” The car hits him, hurling him fifty yards up the road, and I slow to a stop, suddenly paralyzed. The sound of his helpless body hitting the ground is chilling.
And that montage of memories blends and blurs into others.
Rosie. Her little smile. Her chubby little body slipping around in the shallow bath, bubbles everywhere.
Carmichael. The disappointment on his face when he walked into the bedroom as I fucked Sarah with nothing but anger fueling me.
Fuckup after fuckup.
The people I love. Alive. Until I ruined them. Killed them all. Slowly started to kill myself. Then past all the grief and darkness, Ava appears. A light shining amid the ruins. But the light starts to dim, and I reach for her, begging her to stay. My hand wafts through mist.
No!
I jolt upright, scanning the room, disorientated, sweating, breathless.
I find Ava pulling the front door open. “You have a rhino ram-raid you?” someone asks as I try to shake the sleep and dreams away.
“Something like that,” Ava replies, assessing the door too. What happened to the door? I get up to go find out, my muscles screaming again, my eyes refusing to focus properly.
“I can secure it for now, but it’ll need replacing. I’ll get it on order and let you know when it arrives.”
“Thanks.” Ava turns and stutters to a stop when she finds me behind her.
“What’s going on?”
“John had a fight with your front door when you didn’t open it.”
John. God, I’d better brace myself for that blasting. “I should call him.” I don’t want to call him. Face him. Have strips ripped off me for being such a pathetic dickhead.
“How are you feeling?” she asks, assessing me up and down, her voice brittle.
Terrible. “Better.” But what about her? Has she softened even a little? “You?”
“Fine.” She lies. “Time to get you to the hospital. I’ll get my bag.” She starts to pass me, and my arm is moving before I can think better of it.