Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
I face Krisjen. “He smacked you around? Milo? He hit you, right? More than once?”
Fire lights up in her eyes. She knows I was at the lighthouse party last spring and saw. We let Milo have it that night, not that it did much good.
I get in her face, backing her into the car. “You know what he tried to do to my sister last spring. And if you would’ve spoken up before that—about what he was like—maybe he wouldn’t have had a chance to try anything.”
“Spoken up to who?” she shouts. “The police who are hired by the city council his mother sits on?”
I glare down at her.
“Or my grandfather, who is grooming Milo’s cousin to replace him as district judge?” she says next, water pooling in her eyes. “Or maybe the school administration that accepts his family’s donations? Or my classmates who never would’ve taken my side over his? Who?”
A beautiful blush crosses her cheeks, and I can almost feel the heat of her breath as she holds the tears at bay.
“Maybe I’m stupid.” Her chin trembles, but she looks determined. “Because maybe he said all the right things one night when I thought he was all I had and I felt sorry for him.” She laughs at her own dumb thinking. “Or maybe I wanted to believe he cared about me. Maybe I was naïve and I had lofty ideas about love and thought that his having violence in him didn’t make him a bad person and the struggle would make it worth it.”
Her words wind through me. I have violence in me. I’m not bad, though. I’m nothing like him …
“Or maybe I liked it.” She smiles bitterly. “Because nothing felt good, so when it felt really fucking awful, the blood made me feel like I was surviving something. And that made me feel powerful.”
I feel the crooked bone in the middle finger of my right hand that I once broke in a fight. The left nostril that I can never breathe through because it didn’t set right after another altercation. And all the scars from all the times I lived to bleed, because it was the only time I felt strong.
“Or maybe I wanted it,” she goes on, “because then I could hit back, and Mrs. George next door to me growing up never did. No financial independence to leave with her three kids. She was so quiet, because her husband had all but killed her, and she’ll stay with him forever. And maybe sometimes I hoped Milo would take a swing just so I could swing back at him, and Mr. George, and my father, and everyone who stands on weaker people.”
A tear spills down her cheek.
She’s killing me.
“I wish you all could have all the money you ever wanted, so you can see that’s not the answer,” she says. “I liked coming here, because no one covers the bruises. Your women have their own motorcycles, and everyone’s either laughing or howling. It’s … different. I wanted friends, and you guys don’t throw people away.” Her voice lowers to a whisper, and I can tell she’s struggling not to cry. “It’s a good place.”
She turns, but I grab her. Pulling her into me, I wrap my arms around her and bury my nose in her hair.
She tries to push away. “Stop it.”
I don’t let her go. “I’m sorry.” I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling them watering. “I’m so sorry. I’m a prick. Jesus.”
She shakes in my arms, and I pull back, looking down at her.
She shakes her head, refusing to look at me. “You think I have nothing inside of me.”
“I don’t think that.”
She tries to turn, but I won’t let her.
“You’re not stupid,” I tell her. “It’s not your fault that you have a heart and tried to give it to him. I don’t even know why I went after you this morning. I’m sorry.”
I’m pissed at myself and my fucking mistakes, and I resent her family and her circle, but I like Krisjen.
She tears away from me, opening her car door. “Just let me go.”
But I press my hand into it, slamming it shut. “You’re not going back there today.”
She turns, scowling at me.
I look down at her. “I don’t want you around those people.”
4
Krisjen
What is his problem? As if I didn’t feel like a big enough loser waiting only ten whole minutes before I followed Iron back over to the Bay when I said I would never be back again.
Now he’s kicking me out.
But then …
Oh wait, no, stay.
I shake my head, his mouth so close I can feel his breath. At some point I really need to learn that men are just not worth the trouble.
“What the hell is going on?” Macon barks, and I see him out of the corner of my eye, walking out of the open garage.