Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
I glanced away, blinking the water from my eyes. Mae got to her feet. “Bella is, and will always be, the very beat to my heart. She is the greatest treasure anyone could find,” she said. “And I am happy that it is you who showed her her worth. Because she is priceless, Rider. Truly priceless.”
Mae walked to the door. Just as she reached for the handle, I said, “I’m sorry, Mae. For what it’s worth, I’m so fucking sorry for it all.”
Mae glanced at me over her shoulder. “It is the past, Rider. We both now have the futures that were meant for us. It is time to keep our eyes forward, no looking back.”
I bowed my head in agreement., “You’re risking a lot coming here to see me. Styx won’t be happy if he catches you.”
Mae shrugged. “I needed to make sure you loved Bella as much as I needed you to.” Mae smiled, a pure, joyful smile. “And having Bella back has taught me to have more of a backbone. She has taught me to be stronger. Bella is the consummate rule breaker, but I now see some rules need to be broken.”
“That she is,” I said, picturing Bella’s beautiful face in my head. I felt the warmth infuse my muscles at the thought of her perfect eyes and mouth . . . at the way she looked at me.
Only me.
With uncensored love.
“You know, Rider?” Mae said. “We were good friends once. I feel that maybe, one day, we could be again.”
A familiar platonic smile graced Mae’s mouth and I replied, “Yeah . . . being your friend sounds good, Mae. Friends. All we ever should have been.”
Mae left the room, plunging it into a heavy silence. I stared at the ceiling, replaying what had just happened. It is time to keep our eyes forward, no looking back. Mae was right, I knew she was. There was no looking back for any of us now.
As my eyes closed, I tried to convince myself to follow her advice. It was easier said than done when your past was a heavy burden on your back. But I had to try.
For Bella, I had to just . . . try.
Some time later, I opened my eyes. I shifted on the bed as my muscles gradually woke up, hearing the family and friends of the Hangmen still having fun outside.
I groaned when I realized I needed a piss. I staggered to the bathroom, gripping onto my broken ribs. When I was done, I moved back toward the bathroom door and caught my reflection in the mirror above the sink. And I froze. I fucking froze, my heart dropping, when, in that second, I saw Judah’s face staring back.
For a brief moment, I had forgotten it all.
My pulse hammered in my neck and I fought to catch my breath as all the unwanted images of him came flooding to my brain. Exhausted, body weak, I leaned on the sink and closed my eyes. My arms shook with the rage that was settling within me. Judah. Fucking Judah. Even in death, he was still keeping me under his spell. Still polluting my mind . . . still ruining my fucking life.
I opened my eyes and looked back in the mirror. My jaw tensed as I stared myself down. I pulled back my hand and slammed it into the cabinet on the wall. The contents poured out as I smashed the door from its hinges. As I focused on breathing through the pain of my broken ribs, I saw something in the sink.
I picked up the black hair clippers and stared into the mirror. Judah and I had always had long hair. We had always had beards, just like Jesus and the disciples.
But I didn’t want to be anything like Jesus.
And I absolutely did not want to be like Judah.
Without thinking, I flicked the switch and brought the clippers to my scalp. Ignoring the screaming pain of my ribs, I forced the buzzing blades through my long brown hair. With every chunk of hair that fell to the floor, a fucking strangled cry left my mouth.
With every newly shorn section, I gritted my teeth and pushed Judah from my mind. His smiles, his laugh, his hand on my back. His excitement, his happiness . . . his fucking insanity. His victims’ faces as they cried in pain, his crazed fucking eyes . . . his nails on my skin as they clawed for me to stop . . . his glassy eyes as he died . . .
Tears poured down my face and I watched the last of my hair fall into the sink. I moved to my beard and shaved that too. The blade wasn’t too short, so it didn’t get it all. But when I dropped the clippers, I looked at my new reflection . . . and felt everything come crashing down.