Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97369 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Nobody escapes Fletcher. Milo’s had years to do it, but he didn’t. And I’m not going to watch him be some martyr to a sister he never cared to tell me about and me.
“You’re hurting me,” I whisper, no longer fighting him.
With a sigh, he releases me. “Indie—fuuuck …” Milo buckles over when I knee him as hard as I can and slide through the fence posts, moving my legs into an all-out sprint. I never imagined the day would come when I’d run from Milo like my life depended on it. Running from the human I love more than any other human.
His boots pound behind me, breaking sticks and rustling brush, sending tears down my face.
Why?
Why didn’t he tell me about his sister?
Why don’t I know what happened the day his parents died?
How can I trust him if I don’t know him?
I stumble, catching myself with my hands, hair clinging to my wet cheeks. Gripping a rock the size of a baseball, I stand and hurl it at Milo. A shot in the dark. “LET ME GO!” My feet dig into the earth again, kicking it up behind me.
Burning lungs.
Fear whipping my heart like a racehorse.
When I realize the only things I hear are my breath and my body’s desperate movements, I glance over my shoulder.
Nothing.
Not a sound.
Just a sky full of stars and my heart racing.
Is he hurt? Did something get him?
The rock didn’t hit him.
It shouldn’t matter. I need to keep running until I’m free. He’s baiting me. I continue running and running. My heart constricts, and it has nothing to do with sprinting.
It’s Milo.
He’s not the only one with strings attached to him. I have them too. They’re all anchored to my heart, and the hand that pulls them belongs to Milo Odell. I stop, resting my hands on my knees, gasping for every ounce of oxygen I can steal. Again, I glance behind me.
Nothing.
I’m free. If I can make it past the creek, I’m free.
So why don’t I feel free?
I feel lost and alone.
And my heart’s disintegrating into a pile of dust in my chest.
Did he give up on me? Or did he let me go?
“Ugh,” I groan, stabbing my fingers into my hair and shaking my head. “Keep going, Indie. Keep going.” My pep talk falls on deaf ears. Even in a pile of dust, my heart wins. It’s stronger than my self-preservation.
My feet retrace their steps, slowly at first, then they pick up speed. Then he comes into view, a sliver of moonlight on his face, arms resting on the fence.
I slow to a stop a good fifteen feet from him.
This is it.
Everything hits me at once.
I’m willingly giving myself up to Fletcher’s reign. I’m willingly taking on the role of Benjamin’s nanny. I’m willingly suppressing every last ounce of dignity and self-worth to be near Milo.
Not even with him, just near him. I don’t care where I am on this earth; I need to feel the sun. I need to feel Milo.
More tears fall. My knees buckle, and I drop to the ground, the unforgiving dirt and rocks digging into my knees. My face falls into my hands while the sobs rattle my body. It’s as if they’re trying to shake sense into me.
I’m not sure my feelings for Milo make sense. They simply were, are, and always will be.
Through my tear-blurred eyes, I first see his boots.
“Indie girl …”
Indigo.
That only makes me cry harder. Ruthie would die a second death if she could see me, the abuse my heart has weathered at the hands of Fletcher. If I died, would Milo lose his soul and harden into an out-of-control monster feeding his rage with innocent bystanders?
“It s-should have been m-me … you were m-mine.”
He lowers next to me, pulling me into his arms. “It is you. I’m gonna end this. I’m gonna end Fletcher and everyone who has laid a hand on you. And then I’m gonna give you the keys to the kingdom. And if you want to burn it down, I’ll light the fucking match for you. Okay?”
“Milo, you have to t-tell me about your f-family.”
“Indie, nobody wants to know—”
I shove him, backing away and climbing to my feet. “I am not nobody.”
“My need to protect you is—”
“Protect me?” I shake my head. “Are you kidding me?” I sniffle and wipe my nose. “I’m here. Armed guards who have been told to keep me here are surrounding this ranch. This…” I point to the bruise on my face from Ty “…is not you protecting me.”
Milo winces.
“If I’m going to die in this fucking hellhole, I at least deserve to know why.”
He stands, wiping the dirt from his jeans. “You’re not going to—”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” I cover my mouth before I wake anyone up, and a new round of tears fills my eyes. Shaking my head, I whisper, “You don’t know that.”