Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“We’re going to figure this out,” I told her firmly. In the tone I’d used so many times over our lives that I’d perfected it. Even when I was most afraid, uncertain or panicked, I’d always presented as assuring and confident to my little sister. That was my job, after all.
For once, though, she didn’t look the least bit convinced.
“I need to talk to you. Without him.” She violently jabbed her pointer finger in Knox’s direction.
I sighed. The separation of these two was probably most sensible. It was going to be hard for Daisy to see reason—if that was indeed what I was preaching—with Knox in the vicinity … being Knox.
“Let’s go outside,” I replied as I quickly served up a large portion of stew, taking it over to Knox.
“Eat,” I demanded. “The last thing I need is you passing out, hitting your head and losing your memory or something.” I made my voice snappy, not letting him know I was panicked by the very prospect. Of Knox forgetting his job, who he was. Of him forgetting who I was to him. If I truly was anything to him.
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t get up and walk away, which was enough for me.
“Come on, Daisy,” I told my sister, walking toward the door.
She was still standing by the sink, looking intently at me, then Knox, then the bowl of food that he had begun eating.
“Daisy,” I urged, uncomfortable with her gaze.
She moved, slowly, looking pensive but thankfully, following me outside.
“You’ve fallen in love with him,” Daisy half-shrieked before the door had properly shut.
I shot a horrified glance at the cabin before grabbing her by the upper arm and dragging her in the direction of the garden. I did not need Knox within earshot of this conversation.
Daisy had been protesting my grasp until her eyes fell upon the garden.
I’d worked with what I had. Most of the seeds had only just begun sprouting through the dirt, the ground worked and lush. The unexpected flowers bordering the space reached for the sun. The weeds were tamed. I’d managed to salvage some of the rotted wooden fence that served as a border. It looked pretty, peaceful, especially with the backdrop of the wilderness behind it.
Daisy’s eyes widened. “I’m guessing this wasn’t here when you arrived.”
I shook my head, uncomfortable with the garden I’d labored over, of what it represented. It had previously been sacred, precious to me. Now with Daisy’s eyes on it, I felt it was being sullied. I was protective over this garden. This cabin. My solitude with Knox.
I’d quite obviously gone over the proverbial deep end.
“Let me get this straight… In the time that I’ve been worried about your fate, your safety and whether you’d be equipped with all of your fingernails, you were here … gardening and falling in love with a sick fuck?” Daisy’s voice bordered on shrill and hysterical. But there was also a hint of amusement. Daisy was shocked and caught off guard, but a large part of her was delighted.
She consumed romance books like Skittles, nothing too dark for her. She carried an idyllic heart around, unguarded and nonjudgmental. I’d thought it was her weakness, but maybe it was one of her greatest strengths.
“You crazy bitch,” she smacked my arm. “You hide it well, you know.” She tugged on my ponytail.
“Hide what?” I said, folding my arms. I knew she wasn’t talking about my feelings for Knox. Try as I might, I was wearing them on my sleeve for my emotionally shrewd—if not street smart—sister to see.
“That you’re a depraved little romantic, desperate for the villain just like the rest of us,” she giggled. “I always thought the dating of accountants and insurance salesmen was a thin veneer over your true needs.”
I gaped at her, unable to fathom what she had apparently known yet had taken me thirty-two years and a kidnapping to discover about myself.
“I know that route seems safer because of Daddy.” She stroked an iris with melancholy in her gaze.
I still hated that she called our father ‘Daddy’ with a note of fondness that he did not deserve. But that was Daisy, loving things that didn’t deserve it in the first place.
“The safe route may keep you alive, but it doesn’t keep you living,” she continued. “And the ‘safe’ route doesn’t guarantee that bad people won’t come stomping in to steal you anyway. That’s what Stone did. You made all the right choices, and still, the wrong man ruined everything.” She looked back to the cabin. “Maybe not everything, though. Maybe this was meant to happen all along. And maybe that man—wrong in all the ways he can be—may very well be right for you.”
I refused to look at the cabin. I could practically feel the structure pulsating with life, with Knox, with the intensity of feelings contained in the small space. The layers of skin I’d shed like a snake to reveal my true self.