Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56180 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Luke: Sparkplug, is everything okay?
Luke: Whatever this is, we can talk about it. I know our time in Vegas meant something to you. I know you felt the magic too. Whatever’s happening, we can fix it – together.
I try to call him via socials, but he must not have any signal. Navigating my phone, I go to my blocked numbers… and there it is, his real number. I unblock it and then try to call him, but it goes to voicemail.
The police cruiser stops outside the medical center. Perhaps I’m stupid for coming here, but I need to hear Ellie say it. She’s ill. Fine, I get that. But she still fucking betrayed me. I walk to the reception desk and ask to see her. The receptionist looks at me weirdly, and I realize I’ve got dried tears streaking my cheeks.
Before I head to her room, I go to the ladies and clean myself up. Cold water on my face, a few deep breaths, and I’m ready I go to Ellie, mostly.
She’s on her feet, standing at the window, her eyes raw and red, her hands clasped in front of her like she’s praying. She bursts into tears when she sees me.
I resist the almost overpowering urge to rush toward her. “Are you surprised to see me?”
“I saw you arrive in a police car,” she murmurs. “I was in the activities room.”
“You saw me in a police car, and you burst into tears, Ellie,” I say, struggling not to cry. It keeps coming in waves: no, tsunamis. “Why would that be? Why would you see me in a cop car and start crying, unless you knew Damien was out to get me?”
“Eh-Ellie…” She drops into her seat, crumpling like the life is draining out of her.
I walk up behind her, reach out… then stop myself. Instead, I sit on the chair next to her, but keep my hands in my lap. “What happened?” I snap.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.
“You’re going to need to do better than that.”
She stares at me with a heartbreaking expression. “All I know is, Graham told me I had to do what Damien said. I had to. He said he’d thought of everything. He claimed to have rehearsed every scenario a thousand times in his mind.”
“Batshit crazy,” I mutter, not sure what else to say.
“But he was right. He said if you came to me, I had to get your phone. I had to block Luke’s number and change the contact to his number. He said if I didn’t, he would hurt me, and he would hurt Graham. Damien didn’t give us any choice.”
“So before, when I visited, you were playing up your condition, pretending it was worse than it is so you could get my defenses down. You were playing me,” I nearly screech.
“I’m so sorry.”
“He tried to kill me,” I yell, jumping to my feet. “Ellie, I loved you. How could you do this? I’d die before I did something like this to you. Do you understand?”
“That’s enough.”
I turn at the sound of Graham’s voice. He stands at the door… and of course, he’s got tears in his eyes too. It seems the pair of them believe that having the tiniest shred of remorse makes this all A-freaking-okay.
“So, it’s fine for your shit to almost get me killed, but I can’t be mad about it?”
“I told you I could handle this alone,” Ellie says to Graham.
He sighs, his hands on his hips. His lips tremble as he tries not to cry. It’s making me want to weep with them, like some warped version of the life we should live, all in this together, handling this mess as a cohesive unit instead of them conspiring against me.
“We needed the money,” he whispers.
“I know. Damien got a payout. He has the funds to help Ellie. Our department is the ass of TechGuard. They don’t give us the benefits we deserve. I get all that. But how could you do this to me?”
“How was I supposed to know that you were going to get involved with Luke Cross?” Graham snaps. “How could I possibly see that happening? Seriously. Explain that to me. Make it make sense. Was I supposed to know that he’d be waiting to fix your laptop? That you’d end up dating?”
“You sent Damien after me before I met Luke,” I hiss. “He was the one who spilled coffee all over the laptop. Why, Graham? Was there something on there you didn’t want me to see?”
“He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and he didn’t,” Graham mutters.
“But after? You must’ve known he was going to do something rash when I dug deeper.”
Graham buries his face in his hands and sobs violently. Ellie cries too. I storm past Graham, completely sick of them.
“Sera, wait—”
But I ignore him. I’m tired of it. Waiting. I’ve done enough. I waited for Mom and Dad to prioritize me over their addiction, waited for Graham and Ellie to be the role models they seemed to be when we first met. Waited for life to stop being so chaotic.