Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“No,” I croak out, sitting up on my knees. “No. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“You’re going to prison for fucking life,” she hisses at him. “Say goodbye to her because this is the last you’ll ever see of her.”
“No!” I scream and run for him. I throw myself against him, but he’s already handcuffed and can’t hug me back. “Don’t arrest my brother! You can’t take my brother!”
“Rylie,” he chokes out.
One of the cops pulls me away from Hudson. Sobs wrack through me as they take him away from me.
“You’ll never see her again,” Aunt Becky hisses.
The room blurs as tears swim before me. I fall to the floor and cry hysterically. Aunt Becky tries to console me, but I kick away from her.
“Don’t do this,” I beg, my body shuddering. “Please.”
She glowers at me. “It’s been done. He’s sick and now you’re safe. I’ll keep you safe. He’ll never touch you again. I’ll make sure he stays away for life.”
Her words hit their intended mark and I shut down.
No.
I need him.
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” I whisper, my bottom lip wobbling wildly.
“He took advantage of you. I’m sorry, Rylie. Someone had to step in.”
Hudson
I’m in a zone when I’m booked in the local jail. My thoughts circling around her. RylieRylieRylie. Is she okay? Is she crying? Fuck. I’m bruised and everything fucking hurts, but my heart aches so badly.
I can’t do time.
I can’t be away from her.
“One phone call,” the deputy tells me.
Blinking away my daze, I follow him to the phone. With shaking hands, I dial a number I’ve had memorized since I was a teenager.
“Hello?”
“Amy. It’s me, Hudson.”
“Hudson? Why are you calling so late?”
“I need help. I need you to go get Rylie and keep her safe. Look out for her.”
“Why? Where are you? What happened?”
I let out a sigh. “I’m at the jail for—”
“Don’t say anything else,” she interrupts. “Here, talk to Dad.”
“Hello?” a sleepy voice greets.
“Mr. Kent.” I pause. “I’m in jail.”
“Shit, Hudson. What happened? Actually, don’t say anything until I get there to represent you.” I hear him shuffling. “Tell them your attorney is on the way.”
“I just wanted Amy to check on my sister. I didn’t think—”
“Nothing else, son. Don’t say anything.”
Nodding, I choke back my emotion. “Thank you.”
He hangs up and my heart feels heavy. Rylie won’t take this well. I need Amy to check on her and make sure she’s okay.
My mind is still a fog and it isn’t until they’ve long shut the door behind me to a holding cell that I let it all sink in. It happened. No matter how hard we tried, the forces trying to pull us apart were stronger.
They won.
And we fucking lost.
Her cries of anguish gut me. They reverberate through the thin walls that separate our bedrooms and rattle their way into my soul.
They’re dead. They’re dead. They’re fucking dead.
I’ve only been home for a few hours, but it’s enough to realize Rylie is going to really need me. We lost our parents. She’s already so fragile and broken. It’ll be up to me to look after her because Mom and Dad can’t.
I think about those times a few years ago when her depression got worse as puberty hit. Mom and Dad were always doing their best to console her. So many times she’d cry in her bed at night—times that used to annoy me. Looking back, I realize it was me who was wrong. In my shitty life where I have everyone convinced I have a plan and a future, nothing lives inside me. I’m empty.
Rylie’s not empty.
She’s filled with more emotions than a normal human can manage. Inside of her lives anger and sadness and despair. I should have been left with the happiness, but it would seem it’s an elusive emotion the Hales aren’t privy to.
Mom and Dad were our happiness.
Those times when I felt like the pressure was too much, all it took was an encouraging, supportive phone call from Mom. A one or two-worded text from Dad that meant everything. They may not have been rich like Aunt Becky and Uncle Randy, but my parents did everything for us. Their entire world existed to provide us with not only a good, safe home and lifestyle, but also with unconditional love.
Rylie’s wails grow louder.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Something deep inside of me seems to wake from slumber.
Go to her. Make her happy. It’s your duty.
I slide from my bed, alarmed at the way my chest throbs and my bones rattle. The overwhelming need to comfort her and show to her that we’re not alone is pulsating through me. Slipping from my room, I quietly make it into hers as to not wake our aunt, who’s sleeping in the living room. I push into my sister’s room and close the door behind me.
“Rylie.”
Her name is barely whispered from my lips, but it’s powerful. It has the ability to turn her wails into whimpers. Her curses to God into prayers for me to hold her.