Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
He starts pacing back and forth in the small space, so to give him room, I crawl up onto the bed and sit with my legs crisscrossed, watching him get more and more riled up.
“I don’t know where to start,” he says, walking toward me. He spins, marching back to the window that overlooks the parking lot. There, he turns again, coming back toward me. The room isn’t large and he can cross it in fewer than ten of his long-legged strides, so I hope he’s not prone to dizziness or else he’s going down after a few back and forth laps. “I’ve been thinking about it the whole way here, what I’d say, what I could do, how I could fix this.” He shakes his head like his thoughts are rattling around in his head and he’s trying to get them to cooperate well enough to get in an ordered line.
Fix this?
The words make my heart start pitter-pattering in my chest. He wants to fix this? But I try to temper any hopeful excitement trying to build with a dose of reality. This is no abracadabra, wave a wand repair.
“Just start talking,” I suggest. “What you want to say will come out.”
He frowns like that’s a crazy idea, but with a ‘here goes nothing’ shrug, he starts, letting it all flow. “First, I am so sorry. I panicked. I was so scared. You didn’t hear Grace on the phone. Her voice was…” He takes a jagged breath. “And I know you were scared too and doing everything you could to keep her safe. Thank you for that. Thank you so much.”
He looks at me with gratefulness in his gaze, and I have no doubt he means it. But deep down, he still blames me for Grace needing protection in the first place. In his methodical mind, I can see the equation… if no Riley, then no Austin, and therefore, an absolute zero threat. I’m not a numbers person like he is, and even I think that’s logical.
So I put it out there, taking my own advice and saying what comes to mind. “I shouldn’t have had to protect her. It was my fault she was in danger in the first place.” Guilt weighs down every word, and they land between us heavily, making the air thick.
“No,” he says firmly. “Bad things happen. Someone pretty smart told me that and said someone even smarter taught her that.” He looks at me pointedly, and I know he’s talking about Grace and me. “The only person to blame for what Austin did is Austin. It just as easily could’ve been some random person or someone we know. Hell, when Samantha got kidnapped, it was a guy she was helping.”
“When Samantha what?” I exclaim. I haven’t heard that story. I’m not sure I want to hear it, but if Cameron’s family has been through that, it only adds another layer to his fear and his reaction.
“That’s her story to tell, but the point is, it’s not your fault and I was wrong to blame you. I’m sorry.”
I’ll still always blame myself to some degree, but his words do relieve some of the guilt, which I appreciate. “Okay,” I say, accepting his apology. Maybe I’m too easy, but I understand that in the heat of the moment, with fear riding him hard, he lashed out. And there’s no point in being hard-nosed about that when it’s the least of our problems. Because nothing else has changed. Grace is still his priority, and that will never, and should never, change. “Thank you for coming to tell me that,” I tell him, starting to stand up and planning to walk him to the door.
He plants his feet. “I’m not done.”
I freeze. “What? I thought…” I stare at him in confusion. I thought he was coming to apologize and would leave now that he has. I need him to go before I start crying again because seeing him hurts too much.
“Riley, I…” He stops, his mouth open like the words are lodged in his throat.
“Just talk,” I remind him, sounding a little too desperate, but I can’t help it. Anything that keeps him here longer is what I want.
“I didn’t want you to leave. I wanted to wrap you in my arms and never let go. When you went upstairs to pack, I wanted to chase you and hold you down so you’d stay. There was so much I wanted to say, needed to say, but I couldn’t. I felt so… stuck, and so I stayed silent because I didn’t trust myself. If I said anything, it would’ve been that I love you and didn’t want you to go.”
He's pacing again, the words tumbling out of his mouth hard and fast like he couldn’t stop them if he wanted to.