Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“I SAID GET OUT!”
Axel rips the beer out of Dad’s hand and launches it across the garage, making me jump as it smashes against the drywall. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you say that?”
Dad launches to his feet and stumbles into Axel. “You good for nothing piece of shit,” he roars, trying to hit Axel but missing as he falls back against the couch, his weight breaking the old springs inside.
He sits there for a moment as I simply stare at him, too afraid to push any further, too terrified to hear those words come out of his mouth again, but I have to try. I have to know if it’s true. “Dad,” I whisper, the single word like a crack of lightning striking right through my chest.
The fight leaves him, and he stares ahead, his bloodshot eyes incapable of focusing on a single thing in the garage as he silently begins to weep. “Some asshole ran her off the road,” he cried, falling to pieces right there on the couch. “She’s gone, Rae. Dead on impact.”
I crumble, and not even Ezra’s strong arms are capable of keeping me on my feet. My knees crash against the cold concrete as he holds me to his chest, but all I can do is look up at my brother, his stare just as lost as mine as he tries to process everything our father said.
Our mother is gone.
Dead on impact.
Axel stumbles back as though the weight of our father’s words physically stuck him, and Dylan reaches out for him as my world blurs behind tear-filled eyes.
Ezra murmurs something into my ear, but I don’t hear his soothing words over my father’s torturous ones—Dead on impact.
Dead on impact.
Dead. On. Impact.
They repeat over and over, sending me into a whirlpool of unbearable agony. My mom is gone. I’m never going to see her again. Never going to feel her arms wrap around me when I walk through the door after a long day at school. Never going to hear her sing the boys’ songs as she bakes cookies in the afternoon.
She won’t be here when I come in from my first date. She won’t be there for my first heartbreak or to make everything better when my world is falling apart. She won’t get to see me walk down the aisle or hold my hand through pregnancy.
She won’t ever get to grow old.
This can’t be real.
Everything around me fades from existence, and time warps as though I’m no longer living in the same universe. All I know is that one minute, I’m crumbling on the dirty garage floor, and the next, I’m silently crying in bed with my face smashed against the pillow.
I don’t know what time it is, only that there’s not a single star in the dark sky tonight.
I’ve never felt despair like this before. The grief is overwhelming, and I can’t make it stop. I don’t know how. When my world is falling apart, Mom is the one I run to. She’s the one who knows how to calm me, how to ease my pain, but without her, I’m lost—just an empty soul floating out at sea with no lighthouse to guide me home.
A soft knock sounds and my gaze shifts to the door, barely able to see it through my tears, and when I see Ezra standing awkwardly in my doorway, my brows furrow with confusion. He stays over all the time, especially nights when the guys have been working on turning his lyrics into melodies, but he’s never knocked on my door before.
I push up onto my elbow as I awkwardly watch him and try to wipe the tears from my eyes, but it’s no use, more replace them quicker than I can wipe them away. “I ummm . . . I wanted to check on you,” he murmurs, keeping his tone low. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to sleep.”
I shake my head. “I can’t make it stop hurting.”
“I know.”
I crumble back to my tear-soaked pillow as he awkwardly stands in the doorway, slowly creeping closer. “Fuck. I . . . I know I’m probably crossing some kind of invisible line by just being in here, but I can’t walk away knowing you’re hurting like this. Tell me to leave, Rae.”
I shake my head again. “Don’t go,” I whimper, terrified of being alone and falling back into the dark abyss of agony. “Please, I . . . I won’t tell Ax. I just—”
I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before Ezra gently nudges the door closed with his foot and strides across my room. His tall frame collapses onto my bed, keeping on top of the sheets, and within seconds, I’m in his arms, my body curled against him as I rest my head on his chest.