Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 203(@200wpm)___ 163(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
I'm terrified that he walked away. And I'm equally as terrified that I'm wrong and I just blew up my second chance—that I blew up Brinley's chance.
But more than any of that…I'm terrified of what happens if I let him back in and lose him again. I survived it once. I can't do it again.
Chapter Four
Priest
"Priest, you need to sit down," Memphis says, grabbing me by the shoulders as I pace back and forth across the green room after the concert, too amped up to settle. "You haven't stopped moving since you got off the stage."
"Don't want to sit," I growl, shaking him off.
"Too goddamn bad." He grabs my arm again, yanking me to a stop. "Sit your ass down. If you feel like pacing again in five minutes, I'll fucking pace with you. But sit for a minute and talk to me, brother."
"Don't want to talk."
"Yeah, well, shit in one hand, want in the other." He practically kicks my legs out from beneath me, forcing me down onto the couch with a satisfied grunt.
I glower up at him, ready to launch myself at him. I'm so goddamn angry, I'm ready to snap.
"If you want to fight, we can do that too," he says quietly. "But not until you tell me what the fuck happened. After that, I'll find you something to beat the hell out of if that's what you need."
"She hates me." The words shake on my lips. Christ, they hurt to think, let alone to say. "She thinks I left her. That I've just been hiding out all this time. That I never loved her." I groan, pressing my hands to my temples. "I think she'd prefer if I were dead."
"She's in shock," Memphis says, his voice soft. "The man she loves just came back from the dead after six years. That had to be a punch in the gut."
"All this time, she thought I was dead," I rasp, my heart still fucking bleeding over that fact. Christ, I can't even imagine what she's been through. She said her life was hell. That I destroyed her and her life when I left. Hearing that fucking hurt. But maybe she's right.
She's spent years believing I died. I thought losing your memories was the hardest thing you could endure. Maybe I got that shit wrong, though. Maybe it's living with memories that's hardest. Because the agony in her voice—the grief etched across her face…goddamn, it hurts just to know she feels that. To know she's felt it every day for six years.
I want to rip my fucking heart out to stop the way it hurts. But I can't. Because if she's lived with that pain for six fucking years, then I can live with the knowledge of what she's gone through. I owe her that much.
"Now she knows the truth," Memphis says calmly. "Once she has time to process, she'll be back."
I hesitate, not so sure that's true.
He notices. "You told her the truth, right?"
"I tried." I scrub my hands down my face. "I fucked it all up, man."
"So…she doesn't know what really happened?"
"Pieces." I'm not even entirely sure what pieces. "I was trying to explain, but it wasn't fucking working. Everything was coming out wrong. And then she detonated a bomb, telling me that we aren't married anymore. That shit hurt like a motherfucker, not gonna lie. I just remembered her, and I'm already losing her. By the time my fucking legs started functioning again, she was already gone."
And I made a promise to Winter. She's the reason I'm here. I couldn't just walk away from everything her, Ronan, and the band did to get me back here, to help me. I had to get on that goddamn stage and put on a show. I don't remember any of it. The whole thing is a blur.
I'm desperate to go after Mina, to fix this. But where the fuck do I even start? How do I convince her of the truth when I don't even know it? She needs answers…and I've never had those. All I have are questions.
"Shit," Memphis whistles. "You need to go after her, man. Explain what really happened."
"You think I don't know that?" I scowl at him.
"So…why aren't you?"
I pause, thinking it through. Why am I here right now instead of tearing this city apart looking for her?
"Once I was released from the hospital, I started digging for answers," I say after a moment. "I didn't know a goddamn thing, and I couldn't live with that shit."
"I get that," he says, his expression tight. I figure if anyone understands the shit I've done, Memphis does. Don't know much about his past, but I know he's got skeletons in his closet. I don't ask, though. They aren't my fucking business.
"I don't know how many skulls I cracked trying to find out who I was or what the fuck happened to me. Eventually, I found someone willing to admit they were paid to have me hauled to that trap house." I tip my head back, staring up at a water stain on the ceiling. "Never could shake loose who it was or why me." And believe me, I fucking tried. I left a goddamn trail of bloodied bodies behind, trying to get my answers. Either no one knew or they weren't willing to talk. "But as soon as I saw her and memories started flooding back in, her father is the first person I thought about."