Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
If I could go back in time, I would have done everything differently. I wouldn’t have been naïve and believed Bolton’s lies. I wouldn’t have fallen for his tears and his remorse. I would have pardoned Theo’s crimes and given him lifelong immunity.
I wanted to cry—both in joy and sadness.
I was finally free. Free of a liar and a psychopath. My bruises would heal.
But never my heart.
18
THEO
I didn’t speak to Astrid for a few days.
She stayed in her room, and I didn’t bother her. I assumed she wanted time alone to process what had happened. The doctor changed my bandages every day and checked the stitches that held the wound together. The blade had missed all the important parts of my body, but the tear in the muscle affected my mobility. If I had to pick up something heavy, it hurt like a motherfucker. I couldn’t lift anymore, and it would be a couple weeks before I could hit the weights again.
I worked like usual, making my appearances at the headquarters and visiting our clients, and I did my best to pretend I wasn’t injured. It was impossible to see underneath my clothing, but my arm swayed differently if you looked closely. If anyone suspected I was vulnerable, I could end up with a target on my back, and I was too busy with Bolton to deal with another asshole.
I’d just gotten into my Range Rover when Axel texted me. How’s she doing?
Haven’t really talked.
Because you’re fucking or…?
Because she stays in her room. I didn’t desire her the way I had before. Now that I knew what she’d been through, I hated myself too much to care about the way her ass looked in her jeans. My heart was broken. Broken from the suffering she’d never shared. Broken from the way she’d reached out for me and I’d let her fall.
She’s just been in there for three days straight?
Yes.
Talk to her.
If she wanted my company, she would ask for it.
Maybe she’s thinking the same thing, man.
I started the car and let the heater kick on. It was almost spring, but it was still cold and wet. Winter was my favorite season. I loved the clouds and the darkness. I ran hot, so the heat of summer was like a furnace, and the daylight was like a laser on my skin. If vampires were a real thing, I would opt for immortality and permanent darkness.
Scarlett wants to know if she can stop by and talk to Astrid. Could you ask her if she’s up to having visitors?
I didn’t want to bother her. Didn’t want to face the consequences of what I’d done. I pushed reality far to the back of my mind and pretended it didn’t exist. If I spoke to her, that illusion would be destroyed. Sure.
I knocked on her door and hoped she wouldn’t answer. It was too early for bed, but perhaps she was taking a nap before dinner. Or maybe she was in the shower. Hopefully she was preoccupied in some way that she wouldn’t come to the door.
Her footsteps sounded, and she opened the door. It seemed like she expected my butler, judging by the surprise in her eyes. She was in black leggings and a tight t-shirt, showing how slender she’d become over the last few months. “Hey.”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course…it’s your house.” She stepped aside so I could enter her space.
“It belongs to you as long as you’re here.” I walked inside, seeing the fresh flowers that had been put out for her. The bed was made, and an open bottle of wine and a full glass were on the coffee table because she’d been sitting there a moment ago. I took my time looking around, procrastinating until I had to look at her again.
I was relieved to see that the bruising was gone. She looked the way I remembered, but her skin was tighter over her face because of the weight she’d lost. The sparkle that used to be in her eyes seemed to be long gone.
She waited for me to say whatever I’d come to say.
I was bad at talking. Really fucking bad. And she’d become the hardest person in the world to talk to. “How are you?” The question felt like it was in a foreign language because that was a question I’d never asked anyone.
“Good. It feels like a vacation.”
Being stuck in a room by herself felt like a vacation? I wished I’d killed him. Stuck my gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. “You’re welcome to visit the other parts of the house. You don’t have to stay in here.”
“I don’t want to get in your way.”
“I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if you were a burden. You know that.”
“I know you still have your life, and I don’t want to interfere with that.”