Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“There’s not a better man out there than Parrish.”
I was seeing that. It was still hard for me to wrap my head around it. And I’d kissed him. What in the hell had that been about? It had felt like a compulsion, this need overtaking me. Like if I hadn’t let myself find out what his mouth tasted like, I would dissolve into nothing, which didn’t make sense because I already felt like I was nothing.
Reaching up, I brushed my fingers over my lips. Apples. I didn’t know how that made any sense, but Parrish had tasted like apples, the really sweet ones you got on a perfect fall day.
I told myself it was because it had been so long since I’d been close to someone like that. It was why I let him touch me, and why I touched him in the first place, why I’d fucked him too, but deep down, I knew that wasn’t true. Something about Parrish clicked with me, even though I didn’t understand it. I had known him most of my life and had never thought about kissing him and fucking him until now, but…but when I thought about it, I had wanted to take care of him, to protect him from the ugliness of our world. That’s why I had been the one to steal the purse that day, why I’d stuck up for him with Rex, and why I’d tried to keep him from falling into the same trap of our lifestyle.
Grandma sighed, and I hated myself for having let her down. For not being able to tell her that yes, Parrish was exactly what she’d said and that there was more to us than me fucking him. Acknowledging that would make me a better man, and I wanted that for her, but…I just knew it wasn’t true.
“Riven,” she said, and when I didn’t speak or look at her, Grandma grabbed my hand. “Riven…don’t be afraid to open yourself up, to let people in. I regret not telling you that when you were younger, for not pushing you on some of the hard stuff. Maybe if I had…”
“I wouldn’t have killed someone?” I finished for her.
“That was an accident.” I wondered if she was trying to make herself believe that or me.
“I’m a shitty person. I’ve stolen. I’ve sold drugs. I’ve fought people and hurt people. I’ve cheated on people I dated. I’ve lied. There’s no getting around that.”
“No, there’s no changing the past, but you do have the power to change the future and to make the most of the present. That’s all I want for you. Growing up, I just wanted you to be happy, wanted more for you than the lifestyle your daddy chose. That’s what I want for you now too, Riven. You’re a good man, even if you refuse to let yourself see it. You deserve to let yourself be happy.”
How? How do I do that? Why doesn’t my brain work right? Why can’t I believe you? Why can’t I believe Parrish when he said the exact same things to me?
None of those words made it past the walls inside my head, staying there, bouncing around like they were in a pinball machine. Before I could figure out how to respond, I heard the low rumble of a vehicle pulling up. It was quieter than Parrish’s truck, so I knew it wasn’t him. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my muscles tight and my body aware.
“Stay here,” I told Grandma.
“Why the hell do I have to stay here? Is there a reason you’re acting like we’re going to be invaded by aliens at any moment?”
I ignored her and went for the door, expecting to see Rex and Frank—or hell, maybe even Bill—but it was a small, beat-up Toyota. I wasn’t able to let out a sigh of relief when the door opened, because Becca came out.
“She ain’t your responsibility,” Grandma said softly from beside me. “I feel real bad for her, that she’s in the situation she’s in. Rex isn’t a good person. I’d like to help her get out, but we gotta remember she’s a grown woman, Riven, and she makes her own choices. You can’t take the weight of her life on your shoulders, and you can’t fight her demons for her. You have your own battle.”
I nodded, but shit, in some ways Bec did feel like my responsibility. Maybe that wasn’t the right word, but maybe if I’d treated her better, if I’d have been able to tell her I loved her and been more active in our relationship, found ways to make her feel good about herself, she wouldn’t have gone looking for it elsewhere. Maybe if she’d expected to be treated better, she wouldn’t have accepted Rex’s shit.