Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 134741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 674(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Tony froze on the spot, his eyes wide.
Gemma choked on tears.
I should stop.
A small crowd had formed around us.
But I wasn’t done.
This wasn’t about me.
I knew I would be okay, eventually.
I knew I would continue fighting because I had something to fight for.
But what about all those victims who didn’t have a Gemma in their lives? What about the kids who went back to families only to be total strangers to their moms and dads? What about the ones who’d been eaten up so deeply by that horrendous fucking darkness that they’d never be happy, never be sane, always be on the fringes, broken beyond repair.
That was Jareth’s future.
And that was what made me rage.
He’d been broken decades ago, and after his bloodlust was sated—after he’d tracked down every person from Fables and murdered more men than I could count—then what?
What would he become?
Did he honestly think he could get a job, live in a suburb, and talk to strangers at the supermarket?
Fuck that.
His life was over, and he didn’t even know it.
Just like so many other kids who hadn’t been found in time.
Tears stung my eyes as I lowered my voice, wavering with hate and passion. “What you people don’t get is...the hardest thing to overcome isn’t what happened to us but the fact that we have no fucking idea who we are anymore. We listen to so-called specialists who think they know how to heal trauma. We take the pills that promise to straighten out our nightmares. But none of that works. Know why?”
Tony shook his head quickly, licking his lips. “Why?”
“Because unless you’ve lived it. Unless you’ve felt it. Unless you carry the scars and screams of every day that you fought to survive, then you’re not qualified to tell us how to heal. I’m sick of thinking I should be better. I’m sick of doubting that I’ll ever heal. I’m sick of being afraid of myself. I’m sick...” I sighed and pinched my nose.
Ah, fuck, what the hell am I doing?
I was having a meltdown in front of a total stranger who didn’t give a rat’s ass about me.
Gemma pressed against me, trembling harder than I was.
It broke my mania, and I groaned. Lifting my head to the ceiling, I was blinded by a big glittery ball with rainbows refracting off its mirrored surface. Inhaling heavily, I dropped my head and shrugged at Tony. “I’m just sick of...being sick, okay? I’m sorry for my outburst. I should probably go. I understand that you’d rather not enter into any collab—”
“Can I say something?” Tony interrupted.
I held my breath while Gemma wiped away her tears and nodded on my behalf. “What is it, Tony?”
He never looked away from me, his hands curled into fists by his sides before one rose and pointed a finger in my face, just like I’d done to him. It was an aggressive stance. It sent whispers of anger and self-preservation through me, but I locked my knees and waited for him to say his bit.
After all, I’d shouted at him. So I supposed it was only fair that he shouted back.
The crowd around us didn’t disperse, not being polite or feigning that they had no interest in our little debate. One even had her cell phone out, recording the entire thing.
Tony sucked in a breath, his finger shaking. “That. That right there is why I want you to do this. Why I need you to do this.”
I frowned at the raw agony in his tone.
The mask of successful businessman fell, revealing a truth I’d never expected.
Tears didn’t just glitter in his eyes; they fell unbidden down his cheeks.
What the fuck?
My heart raced.
He looked like a man who knew firsthand what I’d said. He looked as distraught as I felt.
With a tattered inhale, he shook his head and spread his arms, uncaring that the crowd around us had grown. That the music somewhere in the ballroom had been turned off, making it deafeningly quiet as every man and woman in their fancy getups watched two men break apart.
“I have the greatest of respect for you, Kassen.” His voice caught, but he cleared his throat and continued. “In fact, I owe you everything, and you don’t even know it. I owe you my greatest thanks and my undying support for what you’ve done.”
“What the hell have I done?” I scowled.
He ignored me. “I’m not going to say I understand how hard it must be to suddenly be back in normality. I’m not going to say I understand how hard it must be not to lash out at those who have no idea what you went through. You don’t know who to trust. You don’t know how to ignore your instincts that have been trained to fight and run. You have filth inside your head that can never be washed clean. I know what it must be like to act as if you’re not a threat. But that’s the thing...it is an act. All of it. I know it’s an act because...”