Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet, I soak it in warm soapy water to clean myself. Even with me going as gently as I can, the cloth feels uncomfortable against my swollen pussy lips.
When I’m all clean, I return to the bedroom with my head hung low, eyes downcast.
What happens next?
“Now go to bed.” He walks past me, answering my unspoken question. He waltzes into the bathroom and closes the door without another word. A moment later, I hear the shower running and release a sigh of relief. Maybe he’ll be in a better mood once he gets out.
But what about tomorrow, and every day after that? I don’t know how much longer I can take being in the presence of somebody whose mood changes so quickly and with no explanation.
Don’t I at least deserve to know why he does these things?
Rather than wait up in hopes of getting answers—I know I’ll never get them—I crawl into bed and pull the blankets over my shoulders before closing my eyes. I’m not asleep when the door to the bathroom opens. I hold my breath, wondering if he’ll have another episode of rage, but his steps are lighter. A moment later, I feel him slide into bed beside me.
The smell of his soap tickles my nostrils, and I suck a ragged breath into my lungs, letting it calm me. Despite our turbulent, Lucas is the only thing in my life that seems to be constant. After a moment, I feel him move closer, the heat of his body radiates through me, and I move closer out of instinct, the need to be cocooned by him.
“You’re a light in this dark world. I just hope I don’t dull that light,” he whispers into my hair as he wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. I want to tell him my light shines through fractured pieces and that he can’t dull me, but I don’t. Instead, I succumb to his body's warmth and my mind's exhaustion.
13
LUCAS
She won’t look at me.
I could probably set myself on fire, and she wouldn’t look at me.
I’d do it, too, if it meant making up for last night. That’s the part of life I hate the most. Having to face myself in the morning.
It was much easier back when I could drink it all away. I woke up feeling like the world’s biggest piece of shit after using a woman for my pleasure. I’d pick up a bottle and blot out the memory until enough time passed that I couldn’t remember what happened anymore.
That was then. Now I’m older, supposedly wiser. It doesn’t stop me from making the same shit choices.
“Celia give you that?” I mutter, gesturing toward the leather tote and the folded garments inside. She’s laid it on the bed and is now adding her own clothes to the stash. A short nod is the only response I get. Heat spreads in my chest and warms my face. Goddammit, can’t she tell I’m trying?
Of course she can’t. That would mean looking inside my head and seeing how much I wish things hadn’t gone the way they did last night. If I could only make her understand. I don’t have the words to do it. I’ve never been good at this kind of thing, apologizing and making amends.
Lauren would skin me alive if she knew I’d sunk so low again. I’m supposed to be better than this by now.
“I’m ready.” Delilah zips the bag and lifts it from the bed before I can close a hand around the straps.
“Let me,” I offer.
She shakes her head, then walks from the room. Message received. She knows how to put a man in his place, this one. Either that or I know I deserve it, which only makes things worse. There was a time I wouldn’t have thought twice about my actions from the night before. I wish I could go back to that time, so brushing her off and dismissing her anger would be easy.
“You have everything?” Celia asks Delilah before looking up at me as I descend the stairs. She’s obviously tense, rubbing her hands against her thighs. She’s dreading this for Delilah.
“I do. Thank you so much for everything.” She turns to Nic, who’s standing by the door. He might as well shove her through it, he’s so obviously ready to see us gone. “Thank you for finding me and for letting me stay here. I know it makes things uncomfortable for you.”
“Don’t worry yourself. That wasn’t your fault.” There’s a great deal of meaning between the lines, and he damn well knows it. She might not hear his true meaning, but I do. It was my fault. I let her get away, to begin with, even if it was my daughter who freed her.
We still need to have a talk about that when I return. I make a mental note of it as I say my goodbyes. Celia gives me a quick hug before shooting me a plea with her eyes. I’m not sure who she’s more concerned with, Delilah or me, and I don’t know how to respond. I settle for an awkward pat on the shoulder before turning to my brother, who merely stands with one hand on the doorknob and the other in his pocket. Another message received.