Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
“You might be the only person from Texas to say so,” I mutter.
“I’m probably the only person who won’t offer condolences, either. I wish I could say I was sorry, but I’m not.”
Something twists in my gut as I pin her with my gaze. “What do you mean?”
Tori releases a shaky breath, steeling herself.
“I mean, I’m not sorry for what happened to Adam.” Her voice takes on an edge I’ve never heard from her. “Whoever killed him did the world a favor.”
I stare at her, motionless, as if I didn’t quite hear what she just said correctly. Because it makes no fucking sense. Everyone loved Adam. Everyone. Including Tori. So what she’s telling me doesn’t compute.
“I don’t understand,” I reply, trying to keep myself in check. I didn’t come here to listen to her talk shit about my dead brother. “You dated him. You told everyone you were in love with him."
“I know.” She shudders like the reminder makes her ill. “This is what I came here to tell you.”
“That you hate him?”
“You wanted to know what happened that night when you saw me in the pool house.” She rushes to get the words out. “It was him. He happened. He’s the reason I left and why I couldn’t tell anyone where I was going.”
My chest tightens, and I stare past her, not sure I want to hear what she has to say. Adam’s warning about her tumbles through my mind, and I don’t know what good can come from discussing any of this now. I’m about to tell her so when she interrupts me.
“I’m sure you think I’m crazy.” She laughs, but it’s a broken, hollow sound. “Adam was always good at convincing people of that. I can only imagine what he must have told you.”
I don’t respond because admitting it feels like a betrayal to him, and I know it sure as fuck won’t help this situation.
“That day you came to my house to check on me, I thought he sent you,” she tells me. “That’s why I was so freaked out. I thought you were trying to test me, or maybe you were meant to be a threat. I really didn’t know at that point.”
“Why would he send me as a threat?” I want to take back the words as soon as they leave my mouth. It feels like she’s throwing me a line, and I’m taking the bait.
“Because Adam wasn’t the person everyone thought he was.” She blinks back tears. “He was the devil wrapped up in a beautiful disguise.”
My jaw sets, and I consider walking away before I say something I can’t take back. I don’t know what went down between her and Adam, but he isn’t here to defend himself. She had every chance back then to tell me the truth, and she didn’t. And now she wants to trash my brother after he’s been murdered. It’s too fucking convenient, and I don’t know what she thinks she’ll get out of it after all this time.
“Please just hear me out, Madden.” She reaches out to touch my arm but then thinks better of it. “This might be important. It could help you.”
A few stilted seconds pass before I force a nod. I don’t know why, but something desperate in her eyes leaves me hanging on.
“I did love Adam once.” She forces the strangled admission from her lips. “But things weren’t as rosy as they looked on the outside. Our relationship was fucked up. It was dysfunctional. It was jealousy and fighting. Control and manipulation. The funny thing is, I was so messed up in the head, I convinced myself that was love.”
She sniffles, swipes at her eyes, and shakes her head. “I was young and naive. And I think even when I had my doubts, I would always question them. Because nobody else saw the ugly parts. They saw the handsome, funny, charming guy with a million friends who could have his pick of any girl. It made me feel special to be his. He chose me when he could have anyone, and I thought that meant something.”
“It did mean something,” I tell her. “He cared about you when you were together, but Adam still had a lot of growing up to do at that point.”
“Yeah.” She scoffs. “He cared about me so much he showed me by slapping me around. Kicking me. Strangling me. Spitting on me. Forcing himself on me when I denied him—”
“Tori.” I try to stop her, but I can’t. The words keep coming, assaulting my ears without any chance to process them.
“He siphoned every last ounce of life I had left in me,” she croaks. “And the whole time, all everyone could tell me was how lucky I was to be his. Nobody knew who he really was. But that night in the pool house, you saw me, and you knew something wasn’t right. You were the first person to care. The first person to even ask.”