Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Levi Tibbs. As she describes the trauma he inflicted on her, my eyes burn. My chest aches, and the world seems to slow beneath my fuming breaths.
She drops the belt and comes at me with her fists, pummeling my back as she furiously recounts the tragedy of her sixteenth birthday. Inconceivable emotion pours from her lungs, her voice shaking with anger and tears. She doesn’t stop hitting, doesn’t stop shouting, until every horrifying detail singes the air and every pound of rage breaks free.
I immerse my entire being in her words, in the images they conjure, and relive the brutality of that night with a hot ember charring my throat.
In that moment, I make the decision to forgive myself. I failed to protect her that night, but I’ve walked through hell since then, doing everything in my power to keep her safe. I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure she’s never harmed again.
Eventually, her fists open, rubbing over my back as she cries. “I’m so sorry, Jake. I’m sorry—”
“No sorries.” I twist around and gather her in my arms. “No shame. Do you hear me? You gave us exactly what we needed.”
I tuck her against me and roll us to our sides, with her back against my chest. Her body sags, arms slack and breaths shredded. I run my fingers through her hair until her eyes drift shut. Then I sit with her in the grief.
Sometime later, she stirs from the silence. “Jake?”
“I’m here.” I turn her in my arms and caress her pale face. “How are you feeling?”
“My heart feels like it’s beating differently. Clearer. Brighter. Like it’s waking after a long hibernation.” She stares up at me with puffy, bloodshot eyes. “I think that might’ve been an enormously healing experience.”
“For you and me both.”
“Are you okay? Your back…”
“I’m good, Conor. Relieved.” I kiss her forehead, her nose, her lips. “We’ll still have some hard days ahead. Grief doesn’t just come and go in a night. But now we know how to work through it.”
“Okay.” She rests a hand on my cheek. “You’re going to give me answers now, right?”
“You’re exhausted. We can wait until—”
“Tonight.” Her eyes plead as she sits up.
“Tonight, then.”
“Thank you.” She slides her arms around my shoulders, hugging me while stroking her marks on my back. “Thank you for helping me. For not giving up.”
I ache to kiss her, but once I start, I won’t be able to stop. The quicker I tell her everything, the faster I’ll be inside her. That’s if she absolves the things I’ve done.
She’ll forgive me.
I think she already has.
Turning my head toward her arm, I ghost my lips along colorful sunsets and horses until her inked skin shivers with goosebumps.
“I need to get something.” I reluctantly unwrap us and set her on the bed against the pillows. “Stay here.”
In a few brisk strides, I reach the dresser and remove a large envelope from the bottom drawer. The seal is still intact, which means she hasn’t snooped. Not that she’s had the opportunity. I haven’t let her out of my sight since the first night she returned home.
“What is that?” She twists her fingers in my t-shirt, where it gathers around her thighs.
“The deed for the land.” I return to the bed.
“Julep Ranch?”
“No. The ten-thousand acres the ranch sits on.” I set the envelope on her lap. “You can read through all the documents later. For now, just focus on the highlighted sections on the pages I marked with tabs.”
I leave her to pick through the legalese and head to the bathroom to prepare a bath.
When the tub is filled, I shut off the faucet and turn to find her standing in the doorway.
“Lorne and I own the land? All of it?” The deed trembles in her hand as she stares down at it. “How? I thought my dad sold it to yours? And this other document?” She shuffles the papers. “It’s a trust signed by my mom. I didn’t know she had anything like this. Is it real?”
“Yes. I had everything verified by an attorney. Before your mom died, she gave the land to you and Lorne. She put it in your names, and that copy of the deed is documented by the county recorder. She handled everything through the proper channels.”
“What about your mom? She owned half of the ranch.”
“She owned half of the cattle business. Not the land. The acreage belongs to you and Lorne and no one else.” I crook my finger, motioning her closer. “Come here.”
“I’m so confused.” She steps toward me.
I take the documents from her, set them aside, and test the temperature of the water.
“Did you read the highlighted clauses in the trust?” Sliding my hands up her thighs, I catch the hem of the shirt and inch it up, up, and off.