Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“You too,” I murmur, hugging myself, nails digging into my arms.
She glances around my bedroom. “You have a beautiful home. It’s timeless and feminine. I finally have my own real house to decorate. You should help me. I’m not that great at decorating.” When her gaze returns to me, she nods to the cream velvet bench at the foot of my bed. “May I sit?”
I nod.
“How can I help you?” she says, just like her father.
I’m too choked up to speak, so I pinch the bridge of my nose and shake my head.
“It wasn’t his place to tell me, but Slade told me about Archer Sanford.”
My gaze quickly averts to the side.
“In college, a man tried to rape me behind a convenience store. I was lucky because Slade saved me. Thankfully, my story was just a close call. My Aunt Jessica is … well, she’s my idol. The strongest person I know, times infinity. When she was young, she and a friend were kidnapped and tortured. Her friend died, but Jessica lived. And life was far from easy after that. She was raped during combat training. And years later, abducted again and tortured. She died. Uncle Luke had to bring her back to life. She is undoubtedly the greatest human I have ever known.” Livy lowers her voice. “But don’t tell my dad I said that.”
I still can’t look at her but manage a tiny smile.
“Not because she survived. That was the easy part. She’s lived. She married the love of her life, and they have three children. Her glass is always half-full. Hell, I think it runs over every single day. She’s not normal. She’s not the average woman. I’m not even sure she’s a mortal. But she represents hope and possibility. What’s that Robert Frost quote? The only way to overcome suffering is to go through it? Or something like that. I guess I’m trying to say that I know you’re suffering. And the only way past it is through it. But you don’t have to go through it alone.
“There’s a little boy in the other room who’s love personified. And when he sees you, he’ll assume you’re his new best friend. He’s going to want hugs and kisses. He’ll grab your nose and try to hide it like my dad does to him. There’s also a baby in the other room. She’s peace personified. Holding her is like hugging a rainbow … floating on a cloud. But if you’re not ready for human touch or to be surrounded by people who care deeply, overstep boundaries, but fight fiercely for the ones they love, then we won’t stay long. And you might want to stay in here until we leave.” Livy stands. “There’s no shame in whatever you decide. If it’s not today … we’ll come back another day … and another day … but we’ll never give up. We’ll never abandon you.” She smiles. “It’s been a pleasure meeting the woman who has claimed my dad’s heart.”
With that, Livy leaves the bedroom, closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
JACKSON
Livy reappears with a tiny I-did-my-best shrug.
“Thank you,” Jackson says. He’s on the floor with Wylder, letting him walk on his back.
“It’s heartbreaking. You can see it in her eyes; she desperately wants to shed her trauma skin and reengage in life.” She sits on the sofa beside Slade and takes a fussy Ryn to feed her.
Heartbreaking indeed, Jackson thinks.
They chat and watch the wild child run around for the next hour; then, the bedroom door creaks open.
Jackson hooks his arms around Wylder when he tries to run past him. “Easy,” he whispers in his ear, kissing the side of his head.
Frankie appears, fists nervously pumping at her sides and a shaky smile.
“Hi.” Jackson smiles at her.
“Hi,” she says softly.
“Frankie, this is Wylder, the wild child.” He ruffles his hair, and Wylder shakes his head and giggles. “Wylder, this is Frankie.”
“Frankie,” he repeats her name.
“But Frankie’s been feeling a little yucky, so you need to be gentle with her. Okay?” Jackson says, looking only at Frankie.
She draws in a slow breath and swallows hard.
Jackson lets go of Wylder, and he runs toward Frankie.
“Slade!” Livy cringes.
Jackson holds out his hand, signaling for Slade to let the wild child be.
When Wylder hugs her legs, Frankie stiffens like a cat thrown off a ten-story building. Her eyes remain wide and glued to Jackson, a silent plea for help.
He mouths, “I fucking love you.”
Emotion fills her eyes, and she slowly squats so Wylder can throw his chubby arms around her neck and press his fishy lips to her cheek.
Frankie folds him in her arms and closes her eyes like he’s giving her every breath she takes.
When Jackson glances at Livy, he smiles because she’s wiping the corners of her eyes. In the next breath, Wylder wriggles free and runs to Slade.