Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“What the hell?” I breathed.
“Oh, it gets better. I sometimes turn on the TV. You know, to try to drown out the sound of people driving past our house and screaming that we should all be in jail only to stop in front of Thea’s house and scream what a fucking whore she is. But when I turn on the TV, all I see is some member of your family crying and holding up a picture of a kid who raped me while they preach about what an amazing person he was.”
“Fuck,” I mumbled, reaching out and resting a hand on her hip in a lame attempt to pull her into a hug, as if it could possibly help.
She immediately backed away but kept talking. “And the worst part is, this shit isn’t even limited to your family. Just yesterday, my own father gave an interview to the news detailing all of Ramsey’s violent tendencies and how he’d been expecting him to do something like this for years.” She finished on a boom. “His own son!” She shook her head and drew in a shaky inhale. “So, sure, let’s talk. Which part would you like to discuss first?”
I once again moved in close, stopping only an inch away. “Whatever part I can help with.”
“Help?” She laughed without humor. “You should hate me, Camden.”
“What in the world do I have to hate you for? Because my cousin was a psychopath? Because my family is delusional? Because your dad is a piece of shit who never deserved to be called Dad in the first place? What part of that has anything to do with you?”
“All of it!” she yelled.
“None of it!” I shouted right back. I hated raising my voice at her, but nothing else was getting through. “God, Nora. This isn’t your fault. And I am so damn sorry people are taking this out on you, but they are clueless idiots who have nothing better to do. You have to remember you weren’t the one who killed Josh. You didn’t—”
I had a whole speech prepared in my head that may or may not have ended with me shaking sense into her if need be, but it died on my tongue when she jerked so hard it was as if she’d been shot. All the color drained from her face as she stared through me.
A sick sense of unease took root in my stomach, and I glared back at her. She blinked too many times for it to have been natural. She looked like a robot attempting to fit into society. Blink. Sway. Breathe. But the Nora I knew was lost in her memories.
I was suddenly terrified of what memories those might be.
“Nora,” I prompted, catching her hand. I gave her a tug and she stumbled into me.
Her face collided with my chest, and while her arms hung at her sides, she pressed her body close. “I can’t talk about this.”
Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, there was a this for her to talk about? I waffled for a minute, simultaneously wanting to know everything and nothing at all because denial was easier.
But it was Nora. She lived a life of secrets, but there was no way she could keep something like this inside without it festering into an infection that would eventually devour her.
Hooking one arm around her hips, I held her tight and glided my other hand into the back of her hair, tucking her face against my chest. “You can talk to me. You can tell me anything.”
“Not this,” she croaked.
“What if I tell you a secret first? Tit for tat?”
She shook her head, her tears soaking my shirt. Every single one of them felt like acid.
“All right, well, I’m gonna try anyway. So, if you feel like talking when I’m done, that’d be cool.” I dipped low, put my lips to her ear, and whispered, “And there’s no making fun of me for this. Got it?”
She didn’t reply, but she shifted deeper into my hold and I took what felt like the risk of a lifetime.
“I met this girl a few summers back. Oh my God, Nora. She was incredible. She had these big, brown eyes and the cutest freckles across her nose. She would scream if a cricket so much as looked in her direction, but I’ll tell you what. That girl was the bravest person I’ve ever met. And I would know, she saved me from quite a few rabid frogs that summer.”
She half laughed, half cried, so I assumed I was doing something right and kept going.
“It sucked because I’m pretty sure she hated me at first, but I grew on her after a while. I knew she had it rough at home, but whenever she saw me, she’d get this huge smile that didn’t just make me feel like I existed in the world. It made me feel like I existed for her.”