Total pages in book: 185
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 180510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 903(@200wpm)___ 722(@250wpm)___ 602(@300wpm)
My mind races back to California where I threw cash at Athelinda, ran out of her building, and I didn’t look back. My wobbly legs picked up speed until horns honked and tires screeched. I stopped in the middle of the street while drivers swerved to keep from hitting me.
Even now, I feel breathless.
Wordless.
Lost.
Whatever life this is, I don’t want it. If I am him … I can’t do it.
Why did Colten save me? Why couldn’t he have waited just a minute longer? Maybe even ten … twenty seconds would have made the difference between death and near death.
My poor parents. They spent my whole childhood trying to make me feel special and unique, when in reality, I was a demon in the body of their little girl. What could they have possibly done wrong to deserve me?
When the sun starts to make its way into the morning sky, I brew a cup of coffee. As soon as I take a sip, I spit it back into the cup. It’s hot and tasteless. I bring my nose close to the steam and take a whiff. It has no aroma. What is wrong with me? Am I in purgatory here on Earth? Is that what Athelinda meant?
“Good morning.”
I turn toward Colten’s sleepy voice. His messy hair and big yawn stand a few feet behind me with a blanket tied around his waist.
“Colten …” I whisper. “I’m so very sorry.” My gaze affixes to his chest. He looks like a cat attacked him. A big, mean cat. Deep scratches. Speckled areas of dried blood. I curl my fingers and inspect my nails. They’re dark with dried blood as well. When I hug my chest, I feel the rough patches on the back of my arms that probably look like a raked garden as well.
He doesn’t make a single glance at his chest. Instead, he shrugs. “It’s fine.” He takes a step forward.
I stiffen as he kisses the corner of my mouth.
“Colten …”
“My love,” he says adoringly, almost playfully while making his own cup of coffee.
I flinch when he turns his back to me. It matches his chest. I did that. I hurt him. Marked him. And I did it all in the name of feeling. Only … I didn’t feel it. But I’m sure he did because he’s a normal person with real feelings.
“Colten …” I gently splay my palms and my cheek against his back. Closing my eyes, I whisper, “I’m unwell. You have to protect yourself … protect your daughter.”
“Hey, no.” He turns, framing my face in his strong, protective, loving hands.
What did he do to deserve me? Wasn’t having an awful dad enough?
“Baby, what are you talking about? It’s a few marks. They’ll heal. I’m okay. Do you hear me?” Colten shakes his head. “And what are you talking about protecting Reagan? Protect her from what?”
Me.
“Josie, what happened in California?”
I lean into his touch and close my eyes. “I have to tell you something,” I whisper. “And it’s going to change everything. And I need you to promise me that you will walk away like you did seventeen years ago.”
“Josie—”
I open my eyes. “Promise me you’ll remember that your life has so much purpose and meaning. You have a beautiful daughter. And your mom and brother. A job you love. You have everything, Colten. And you had it without me.”
“No.” He shakes his head, eyes narrowing while his grip on my face tightens. “I’m not promising you anything of the sort. What the hell happened?”
His anger pulls a few tears from my eyes. I welcome them. I welcome any sign of human emotion. “The visions, the memories … they’re not from one of the girls.”
Colten nods. “Okay.”
“I was him.” I bite my shaky lower lip. The ugliness of the truth burns in my chest … in my soul. My fucking awful soul.
“Who?”
“Winston Jeffries.”
Colten blinks a few times before his hands drop to his sides. In an unexpected twist, he laughs.
Laughs!
Fist at his mouth, hand over his belly laugh. “No.” He snorts. “That’s an interesting take on all of this, but … no.”
“I don’t want to believe it either, but—”
“Good.” He grabs my shoulders and lowers his face level with mine. “Whoever put that shit in your head is mental. You absolutely should not believe them. Josephine Watts, you are way too smart to do anything short of what I’m doing.” He laughs some more. “It’s beyond ridiculous. It’s laughable. You see that, right?”
I can’t laugh. It’s not in me. No smiles either. I find none of this amusing.
“I never see the person who did it because I’m seeing it through his eyes. I wouldn’t have memories of him burying my dead body. I wouldn’t have memories of times that he buried other bodies at different cemeteries, but I do, Colten. The only explanation is that I was him. A …”