Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“I didn’t abandon her, Jack. I would never, could never. I can barely breathe without her. I’m glad I told you.”
I sit with her words. Shivering with the cold settling around the cabin, I inhale deeply, closing my eyes.
“And when we do what we do together, it doesn’t mean I’ve switched off because I don’t care. But … it just helps me to almost express the pain that I feel. I can channel my energy, my helplessness, my frustration, if that makes sense.”
It makes perfect sense. Connecting to disconnect.
A crushing image of my mum standing helplessly in my bedroom doorway while my stepfather dragged me out of my closet by my hair and stamped on me with his goddamn boots flashes into my mind. He struggled to remove his belt from his pants before beating ten tons of shit out of me. Disconnecting was the only way to get through it because crying never did a goddamned thing. Mom never tried to stop him. The look on her face was calm, cold, indifferent.
I flinch at the recall, and Skye sits up in response. She doesn’t say anything, but her presence is a comfort I couldn’t have predicted.
“I’m not proud of what I said to you.” It’s the closest thing to an apology that I can manage.
Skye nods, clutching the blanket high around her neck.
“I know what it’s like to live in fear, Skye. My mother. She wasn’t like you. She stood by and let my stepfather beat me.”
“Jack…” Her expression is as broken as I feel.
“She’s got what she deserves. She’s rotting in a care home somewhere. I hope her guilt is eating her from the inside out.”
“And what about your stepfather?”
I shrug. I don’t know where he is because if I did, I’d put him six feet under with no remorse.
“You are not on your own, Skye. Not anymore.”
I lay her back down under the cover and tuck the blanket around her. She closes her eyes, her lids flickering gently. My body shivers as I stroke her soft hair.
Although the morning is approaching already, I’m going to throw on something warm, get under the covers of my bed, and try to get the sleep I so desperately need. Silently, I leave the room, closing the door and turning towards my end of the hallway. Skye is breathing steadily before I even leave the room.
Once I’m in the familiar four walls of my space, I light a lamp and pick up the clean cotton boxers and my favorite fleece shirt that Skye placed in a laundry pile. She folded everything with military precision. West will be pleased.
I wonder if her ex, Carter, forced her to be like this.
Asshole.
Skye isn’t like any woman I’ve met before. She’s prepared to sell herself to three strangers for a whole year to save her only daughter. Hallie is one lucky little girl to have a mother who loves her so much.
As I lay myself down wearily, stretching out to fill my bed. My heavy eyelids flicker, my body sinks slowly into the mattress, and my overactive mind is forced into shutdown.
But as I pray for sleep to take me over, I find myself grappling with an emerging thought, rising from the darkest crevices of my mind.
Bill Tappin. You owe me.
I wake too early, exhaustion still weighing heavy. The sun is up, but the clock reads the ass crack of dawn. I wish I could sleep for longer, but I know from experience that trying only ends up in frustration.
Surprising myself, I’m almost considerate as I emerge into the corridor and pad softly along the floorboards and into the kitchen. I don’t want to wake anyone. It was a tough night.
I shake my head. I’m turning fucking soft.
I’m surprised to see both Finn and West already at the table, huddled and talking in whispers.
“Couldn’t sleep either?” I roll my eyes. They know me and sleep aren’t the best of friends, but West’s comment suits the mood.
“Fix me a coffee, someone!”
“Course, man.”
I watch Finn as he lumbers over to the machine. He returns, places a steaming hot mug in front of me, and I lower my head to inhale the rich scented steam. I need this caffeine hit to yank me into the land of the living.
“I guess Skye is still out for the count.”
“Yup, I checked a few moments ago, and she’s dead to the world!” Funny, I didn’t hear him; I guess he was fairy-footed, too.
West slides his phone across the table as I take my first bitter sip. The face of Carter Reynolds, Skye’s ex, looks back at me from the screen. The man’s a weasel, smugness radiating off the newspaper’s front page, a coldness discernable in his cesspit eyes. Anger bubbles against the back of my throat, making me grit my teeth. I glance between Finn and West, trying to read their thoughts.