Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
My knees give out, forcing me down to the cold tile floor in a heap. At the mercy of her own exhaustion, Hannah has no choice but to fall with me, landing on my front, and my arms fall above my head, unable to keep holding her.
I close my eyes, drained.
Yet more alive than ever.
She hums and rolls to her back next to me, sucking in air when her skin meets the stone tiles. ‘Shit,’ she gasps, and I drop my head to the side, finding just enough energy to smile. But I can’t talk. Can’t even find the will to think of anything to say. So I just reach for her hand and hold it while we lie side by side and recover, both of us staring up to the sky.
‘I like your shower,’ she says after a while, tugging my hand to her face and nuzzling it.
‘I’ve always liked it. Now I fucking love it.’ I shift onto my side to face her. ‘You’ll have to be here every morning to shower with me, because I don’t want to just like it ever again.’
Her response is to simply smile at the sky. ‘I really love it here,’ she says wistfully. ‘It’s so quiet and peaceful. Hidden from the world.’
Hidden. She’s hiding from something. All the scraps of information Hannah’s unintentionally throwing my way are slowly building a picture. But the picture is fuzzy still. Will it ever be clear? I don’t know, but what I do know is she’s here, hidden, and whatever she’s hiding from can’t find her. And if it does . . . I quickly shake off those dangerous thoughts. It’s obvious now that Hannah’s scared to trust, and everything tells me she’s scared to feel. Now I just need to find out why. Or do I?
‘Is that a car?’ Hannah breaks into my thoughts, and I still, listening.
‘Sounds like it.’ I quickly jump to my feet and look over the top of the shower stall. My eyes widen. ‘Shit.’ ‘What?’
I fly around in a panic and collect a startled Hannah from the floor, putting her on her feet and ushering her out of the shower. Hurrying us across the lawn, I look back over my shoulder, seeing Darcy’s Jaguar emerging from the darkness of the trees canopying the road. What the hell is she doing here? ‘It’s Alex’s mother.’
I direct Hannah into the bedroom and throw a shirt at her. ‘She can’t see you.’ I scramble for some more sweats and yank them on, quickly peeking out of my bedroom window. ‘Oh no,’ I mumble, seeing Alex in the passenger seat.
‘What, Ryan?’ Hannah sounds reasonably annoyed.
‘It’s Alex, too, and she definitely can’t see you.’ I hurry over to Hannah and help her into the shirt, tugging the sides in and buttoning it up, albeit wonky, leaving one tail longer than the other. Then I run into the kitchen and snatch up my keys from the counter. ‘Get in my truck,’ I say when I make it back into the bedroom, finding Hannah has abandoned my shirt in favour of her dress from last night. It must be wet. But then again, so are we. Whatever, I don’t have time to waste on what she’s wearing and why.
I shove the keys in her hand and take her shoulders, turning her and leading her to the back door. ‘If you go around the back of the shed they won’t see you. Wait for me.’ I turn her quickly, smack a huge kiss on her lips, and then send her on her way. I slam the door and turn, running to the living room. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I fly to the door, take a moment to compose myself, and then pull it open with a stupid smile.
Alex skids to an abrupt halt halfway up the steps to the veranda, taking me in, and I shift and squirm guiltily under her scrutinising glare. ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask.
She narrows her eyes. ‘What’s up?’
‘Nothing.’ I laugh like a twat, looking past her to Darcy. ‘Morning,’ I chirp.
Just like our daughter, Darcy stops in her tracks, assessing me suspiciously. My smile widens. Darcy cocks her head. ‘You were supposed to collect Alexandra at eight.’
Shit. I was? I look to my girl, who now has her arms folded over her chest. I give her sorry eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Cabbage. I just woke up.’ That’s bullshit, and she must know it. I’m out running by six every morning, no matter what day, no matter the weather.
‘Then why is your hair wet?’ she asks.
I reach up and feel, cringing. ‘Because I just showered.’
‘You said you just woke up.’
‘Like ten minutes ago.’
Silence falls, and I stand like a plum being studied by two sets of beady eyes. Fuck me, won’t they just stop? Eventually, Alex passes me, though her eyes remain glued to my guilty form the whole way, until she’s in the cabin and it’s just me and her mother.