Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I forced myself to enter the building, but felt my stomach clench as the woman I’d seen enter was walking through a doorway at the other end of the small space, a little girl in tow. “Bye, Jonas,” the girl called as she waved enthusiastically.
“Bye, Alyssa! See you next week.”
I managed to pull myself from my daze long enough to open the door for the woman again and once she was gone, I didn’t hear or see anything. The decision to come see Jonas Davenport had been an impulse because when I’d asked Mace to keep an eye on Seth for a little while, my only intention had been to go outside and get some air. But Mace’s visit had thrown me for a loop, as had his words about saving him. And then my last conversation with Jonas before I’d killed one of his attackers ran through my head. He’d thanked me for saving both Cole and Mace’s lives. Right after he’d asked me that damning question that I could no longer adamantly answer yes to.
Did it work for you?
I’d always been sure that the path I’d chosen after Trace’s death had saved me…had given me a new purpose in my life. But being with Seth…
God, I wanted him to be my purpose in life.
It was that realization that had caused me to get a cab and head to Brooklyn to see Jonas. Because it didn’t matter what Mace said about me saving him. I needed to know that if I were to answer Jonas’s question the way I really wanted to, would it change anything?
I forced myself to walk towards the back room where I knew Jonas kept the studio that he used to teach art to underprivileged kids whose schools could no longer afford art programs. I glanced at the art on the walls of the gallery which made up the front of the building. All of the artwork was on canvases and ranged from simple pictures of stick figures all the way up to more abstract-looking art with a wide array of colors and textures. Each canvas had a name on it and I could only imagine the pride each little boy or girl must have felt as they saw their art hanging on the spacious brick walls for all the community to see.
I saw Jonas as soon as I reached the studio doorway, but he had his back to me because he was bent over a canvas on a table in the center of the room. A little girl with mousy brown hair tied up in a tight ponytail was standing next to him, but her bright green eyes were on me. I guessed her to be seven or eight at the most. Her expression was blank as she watched me, but her small body was drawn up tight with nervousness. I saw her reach her hand up to tug on the end of Jonas’s shirt.
Jonas automatically put his arm down on her shoulder as he turned but when he saw me, he froze and his mouth opened wide. “Ronan,” he whispered.
It took him only a moment to recover, but that was probably because the little girl had pressed even closer to him. He automatically knelt down so he was at her level. “Natalie, this is my friend, Ronan.” Jonas’s eyes shifted up to mine. “Ronan, this is Natalie. She’s one of my best students.”
Natalie’s eyes lit up just a little bit at that and she turned to look at Jonas. He brushed his fingers over her cheek. “Do you want to hear a secret about Ronan?”
The girl glanced at me and then nodded.
“He’s a real life superhero,” he whispered. I would have thought he was just saying the words to ease Natalie’s uneasiness, but when he glanced up at me, I saw something I hadn’t expected.
Not fear, not confusion as to why I was there. Just…happiness. No, that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be glad to see me. He didn’t even like me.
“Do you want to ask Ronan to help us hang your artwork?”
Natalie gave him a nod and I held my breath as she came right up to me and took my hand in hers. The feel of her tiny hand in mine, the cautious trust in her eyes, had a whole host of emotions churning through me.
I let Natalie lead me from the studio and followed her around one of the brick walls in the middle of the room. We ended up on the far side of the gallery near the window. There was an empty spot on the wall with a waiting nail. I expected Natalie to release me but she held on to me and when Jonas handed her the picture, she finally let go of my hand. But then she held both her arms up expectantly and even I knew what she wanted. I lifted her up and settled her on my hip and then stepped closer to the wall and helped her position the picture above the nail. She slowly lowered it until the string behind it caught and the picture stayed put.