Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I believe her. She isn't just telling me what I want to hear, she's being honest. But that doesn't change anything or excuse what she did. For weeks, my life has been a living hell and she didn't say a word. She let me go to jail. She let me confess. She let me break Cam's heart.
"I went to jail because of you," I whisper, anger bubbling up hard and fast at the reminder. "Because of you, everyone thinks I talked Rory into killing himself. Cam almost lost his job because of what you did! Whether you meant it or not, he killed himself because of what you said!"
"I didn't mean for any of that to happen," she says quietly, bowing her head.
"Then why didn't you tell the truth?" I scream at her, tears rolling down my cheeks again.
She flinches, but the gun in her hands doesn't waver.
"You aren't going to tell the truth even now. You're not going to confess," I say, stunned when the truth hits me. It's so obvious. I don't know why I'm surprised. That's why she's standing here with a gun, keeping me blocked into this room. She's already made her decision. Now she's trying to cover her tracks.
"I can't," she whispers. "I can't go to prison, Ivy."
"So you decided to let me go in your place?" My stomach heaves. I fight back the urge to vomit.
"No!" She shakes her head quickly back and forth. "I was going to tell you the truth, but then you told me about Cam helping you, and I knew that he'd be able to clear your name. I thought that, maybe, if I didn't say anything and covered my tracks, once everyone realized you didn't do this, the whole thing would die down and everything would be fine. I didn't know you were going to confess, or that you were going to break up with Cam!"
I stare at her. For the first time since I met her, I feel like I don't know her at all. The girl I knew isn't this selfish, cowardly woman. The girl I knew would never let someone she loved go through what she's put me through. And she wouldn't be standing here now, pointing a gun at me.
"I don't even know you anymore," I tell her, shaking my head.
Her expression falls. Pain flashes through her eyes and then she starts to cry. "You do know me," she whispers. "You're my best friend, Ivy."
"Not anymore. Not after this."
"They're going to drop the charges against you. Everything will be fine. You just have to give it time."
"Don't," I say. I'm done listening to her excuses and pleas. I'm just done. I don't even know how to begin dealing with the betrayal threatening to fracture me apart. All I want to do is get out of here and find Cam.
Cam. God, please don't let him hate me.
I push past Erin into the hallway, stumbling when she reaches for my arm, trying to stop me.
"Please don't tell anyone," she pleads with me. "Please, Ivy. Please!"
"Go to hell, Erin."
I'm almost to the living room when a loud sound rips through the apartment.
An intense pain slams into me from behind, flinging me off my feet. My head slams into the wall and then I crumble to the floor.
I wake up on the floor, unsure what happened or where I'm at. My ears ring so loudly, I can't hear anything. My head throbs. And every time I take a breath, an immense pain tears through my back.
What happened to me?
I reach behind me, trying to figure out what's wrong and why I hurt. My hand lands in something warm and wet. I pull it away and bring it to my face, frowning. I have to blink to bring my hand into focus.
Blood drips down my fingers.
"She shot me," I mumble, memory slamming into me at the sight of my blood on my hand.
Erin is Fake Ivy. She shot me to keep her secret.
I didn't honestly think she would do it. I didn't think she could do it. Even after everything, I thought my best friend was still in there and that she'd do the right thing. Clearly, I was wrong.
Where is she?
Loud banging sounds come from the living room, but I don't know what they are or if she's the one making them. My ears still ring too loudly to identify individual sounds. All I know is that my best friend just shot me, and if I don't get medical attention soon, I may not live long enough to tell Cam the truth.
I try to push my way to my feet, but that only leaves me gasping for air and praying for a quick death. I drop back down to the floor, wheezing and gagging as dizziness rolls through me until I think I'm going to pass out.