Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
“What did he do to you, Aviana?”
No worse than you, Cohen.
Okay, that’s a lie. He was far worse.
“You’re goin’ to ignore me like I’m not here? I get that. You’re angry. Get that, too. But if this was your family, your club, wouldn’t you be doing the same thing if you were in our shoes?”
They were my family.
That’s what he told me once. That they’d always have my back.
He lied.
They all did.
I say nothing, even though he makes a point.
“You can hate me if it makes you feel better, but you’re refusin’ to fuckin’ face what’s really goin’ on here. You’re livin’ in the shoes of a victim, swimmin’ in blame, and you’re lookin’ for someone to take that out on. That person is me, because I’m the one who sent you away. Get that, but it ain’t on my club what happened to you, Aviana.”
He’s right, but he’s also wrong.
It is on them, too.
King had a lot to do with the goings down of that day, even though they maintain he didn’t.
He often asked questions about my family.
Wanting to know the ins and outs of what they were doing.
They could have looked for me, could have helped me.
They chose not to.
I simply wasn’t important enough.
“One day, you’ll have to move on from this. Remember that before you do anythin’ stupid. If you do somethin’ you can’t come back from, you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your days. Can you do that? Can you live with that kind of weight on your shoulders?”
I stare blankly at the wall.
He’ll not get anything out of me.
Not now.
None of them will.
I’ve spoken the last of my words.
I’ve pleaded for the final time.
I’ve given them everything, and yet not quite enough.
I’m done. Finally done.
Tonight, tonight I’ll leave.
Only this time, I’ll not return.
But they’ll remember me this time.
I’ll make sure of that.
I MOVE SLOWLY. OH, so slowly.
I push to my hands out of the bed and glance over to where Cohen is sleeping in the chair beside the door. He has made sure I can’t go out that front door without waking him. It’s squeaky and loud, and there would be absolutely no way I can get through it. That’s fine by me, he didn’t consider the other option—the window.
There is a small window in the bathroom, it’s above the sink, but it has no screen. It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’ll get through it. I will escape this madness. Where I’ll go after that, I don’t know. I have no money, no job and, currently, no phone. Still, I’ll find a way. I always do.
My feet land on the old school red carpet, and I glance over at Cohen again. He’s still sleeping, head tipped to the side, and when he looks like that, I can’t help but feel a certain type of way. My heart longs for the friend I lost, my body craves his touch. Those things aren’t real, though. They’re something my mind has put together to try and make me believe that he’s good for me.
He isn’t.
He is toxic to me.
Like a drug.
I might get hooked and, eventually, it’ll kill me.
Step by step, I move toward the bathroom, not daring to look back, terrified he’ll be awake, and my entire plan will come crashing down. When I get inside and close the door softly, I hold my breath for a moment. No sounds can be heard, he’s still asleep. I find the clothes I stashed in the drawers earlier and pull them out, quickly getting changed. Then, I run the brush through my hair, tie it up, and carefully climb up onto the sink.
It makes a squeaking sound, and once again, I find myself holding my breath in hopes that it isn’t loud enough to wake him. When he doesn’t come bursting in, I push the window up. It takes a good amount of force to get it to slide up, and dust covers my face when I finally dislodge it. Coughing into my elbow, I push it up as far as I can and then lift my body up into the small gap. I try to ignore the dirt covering me as I shuffle through, and when I manage to get my body halfway, I peer down. We’re on the first floor. Thank god, it isn’t a big fall.
I maneuver my body to the side slightly, so my fall is less sudden, and then I clench my eyes shut and push the rest of the way through. I land with a thump onto my side and wheeze as the wind is knocked out of me. I lie there for a moment, catching my breath, and then I slowly push to my feet. I stare back at the window, and after a minute or two, I know I’m safe.