Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“Ahhhh!!!!” She released her frustrations. When she gave up the door fight, it opened slowly, forcing her to take a step back.
Ian peeked around the corner.
“Get out of here, Coop,” she warned, out of breath, and feeling out of control on the inside in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Talk to me.” He ignored her request and stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.
She turned her back to him and pulled at her hair much like Chris did when things in life got too overwhelming. “I don’t want to talk. I won’t have big enough words to say because I’m so fucking stupid. I just want to go back to Newark. I don’t care if Marley’s is gone. I just …” She closed her eyes and let the rest of her words burn out on the inside because she didn’t really know what she wanted.
Not totally true. She wanted the impossible—the Russells still alive, a bigger vocabulary, a college degree, a normal life, relatives, maybe a boxing title, and girly nail polish. Instead … she was well on her way to killing a man who made her cheeks turn pink, going to prison, and dying from lethal injection.
“How many broken noses, busted teeth, and cracked ribs have resulted from you feeling like someone’s crossed a line and made fun of you?” Ian sat on the bed, so she had to look at him. He rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands.
Jersey kept her focus on the thick white carpet between them. “Too many to count,” she mumbled.
“First: Max wasn’t making fun of you. She wouldn’t do that. I wouldn’t do that. You’re safe with us. You don’t have to walk around with your fists up and a knife in the back of your pants.
“Second: It’s not your fault that you don’t always follow what someone is trying to say or what a word means. You weren’t given the same chance at an education that so many other people get.”
Jersey glanced up at him. “I was. I was in school until I ran away. I didn’t have to run away, but I did. That was my choice. Maybe if I would have let them find a new home for me, I could have stayed in school.”
“So why did you run?”
She moved to the glass door by the balcony that overlooked the pool. “Because I was done. Done taking my chances on … people. The system. All of it. I was done with the abuse. Done being touched. Done with group homes. After G killed Mr. Fisher, she told me to be brave and run fast.” She shrugged. “Since that day, it’s just been what I’ve done. I do it better than anyone.”
“Are you tired? Tired of running. Tired of being brave all the time?”
Yes.
“No. It’s who I am. It’s how I stay alive. It’s how I know that I’m alive.” She looked down toward her crotch and frowned. Without glancing in Ian’s direction, she made a straight line to the bathroom.
“Jersey—”
“I need to … go … use … um, the bathroom.” She locked the door, shoved down her pants, and sat on the toilet. “Really?” she whispered to herself, scowling at the blood on her underwear. After a quick wipe, she waddled around the bathroom with her pants at her knees, looking in the cabinets for something.
“I hear doors opening and closing. Can I help you find something?”
She closed her eyes and sighed, plopping back down onto the toilet seat. With no other option, she wadded up a bunch of toilet paper for a makeshift sanitary napkin.
Ian took a quick step backward when she opened the door. “Hey …” His eyebrows lifted with an unspoken demand for an explanation.
“Can you just do me a favor?” Frustration bled through her words in spite of her effort to be nice.
“Sure. What do you need?” Ian smiled, seemingly pleased at the prospect of helping her.
“I need you to stay in this room while I talk to Max privately.”
His eyebrows squished together as his tongue poked into his cheek. Jersey prepared herself for the resistance and onslaught of questions.
“Okay.” Ian’s face relaxed.
“Okay?”
He nodded. “Yep. Go talk to Max. I’ll stay here.”
She pulled her glasses down her nose and peered at him over the frames. “I’m watching you.”
“Good.” He grinned. “I like it when you watch me.”
Jersey backed away slowly, pivoted, and sped down the hall and stairs to the kitchen. “I have a problem.”
Max looked up from her phone. “I know you do. That’s why I’m not holding your outburst against you.”
“What?” Jersey’s nose wrinkled. “That’s … no.” She shook her head a half dozen times. “I don’t even know what you mean by that—and don’t try to explain it. I don’t give a shit. My problem is I started my period. I haven’t had one in years. That doctor you took me to said it’s probably because of my over-exercising and lack of food. She said if I started eating regularly and don’t overdo it with exercising, I’d hopefully get my period again in the next six to twelve months. NOT in a matter of days.”