Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Stupid, big, lumbering idiot, I thought desperately. He doesn’t know anything.
“And what’s real cruel is: her bosses, they like their spies like this, all solitary and twisted up inside with guilt, because if they don’t have friends or lovers, that makes ‘em harder to compromise. They let her tear herself apart inside.”
“You’re meant to be reading me directions!” I snapped.
“We’re on this road for another twenty miles so hush and listen.” His voice wasn’t cruel but it was firm. He wasn’t going to be denied. “The story’s only just getting to the sad part. See, this woman, she’s lonely but she’s okay. But then something happens. She meets somebody.”
My knuckles went white on the steering wheel.
“He’s a spy, like her,” Colton said. “And he falls for her. Probably from the very first moment he sees her.” His voice was strained, now. “Because she’s that kind of woman. And she knows, she knows straight away that he’s in love with her, because she’s so good at reading people. But she believes she’s too fucked up and too evil, she thinks she doesn’t deserve to be happy, so she pushes him away, too. And it takes years of working together before she allows herself to fall for him, too. And then at last she does and finally, finally, she isn’t alone anymore.”
I tried to speak but nothing would come out.
“But then some fucking bastard comes along, and he kills this guy right in front of her. And the woman doesn’t just lose the only person she loves, she loses herself. She focuses on just one thing, on killing the guy who killed her man, because she doesn’t want to stop and think about how much she misses him, or the fact she’s still alive, because when she does that, she starts feeling guilty.”
The air vents must have sucked in the dust from the road because my eyes were tearing and I had to swipe at them furiously.
“And this woman, she believes—I mean now it’s like fucking gospel in her mind—that no one’s ever going to love her, and that no one should, and that she can’t love anyone back.”
“Ona beznadezhnyy sluchay!” I snapped bitterly. He waited in silence for me to translate. “She sounds like a hopeless fucking case.”
“Well, see, that’s where you’re wrong.” I refused to look at him but I heard him shift in his seat, turning his hulking body to face me. “See, even if she can’t see that she’s a good person, someone else can.” His voice became rough with emotion. “There’s this guy, and to him…well, she’s his fucking princess. And he’s going to save her, no matter what.”
“And who is he,” I said savagely. “Her handsome prince?”
“More like a monster,” said Colton. “But sometimes, you need a monster. ‘Cause he’s big enough not to be scared of her, and dumb enough not to leave her alone however hard she pushes him away, and strong enough to just throw her over his shoulder when she won’t listen.”
“It’s a stupid fucking story!” I snapped. “Real life isn’t like that!”
“Real life is what we make it,” he said in that deep, country growl. “And if I want to rescue my princess, you’d better believe I will rescue my princess. Whether she likes it or not.”
I was silent for a while. I could feel something rising in me, timid as a beaten animal. Hope.
For the first time, I dared to glance at him. Just for a split second, but when I saw his eyes, so solemn and full of love, I gulped and had to blink back fresh tears. The hope rose a little higher.
A sob broke from my chest, turning into words as it came out. “I miss him!” Even now, there was an instant, inward explosion of fury and self-hate. Weakness! But the words had come out.
“It’s okay to miss him,” said Colton quietly. “You just don’t have to do it on your own.”
My chest trembled and then quaked and there was another sob, and then another, and I tried to keep it in and couldn’t, and then realized I didn’t need to anymore, and something inside me gave way.
My foot relaxed on the gas, Colton took the wheel and steered us and we drifted to a stop at the side of the road. Colton held out his arms and I threw myself at his chest, burying my face between his pecs. He wrapped me up in his arms and squeezed me tight and I began crying it all out: the loss and the guilt and the fear of being alone and the shame of being weak. And for the first time, I knew how incredibly, unspeakably wonderful it was to have someone to cry it all out to.
He held me like that for a long time. When my tears stopped, the pain hadn’t gone. But it was easier, somehow. Feeling was easier. And for Colton, I felt…