Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
She wanted what my mother had. The pretty home and nice things and a love she couldn’t possibly hold on to. And I mean, who knows, maybe she would have found that one day, but she rushed into the future. Boston chose Enzo, and so my father gave her him, but only because he is who he is. There is no love there, no relationship. There isn’t even a conversation they’ve shared from what Boston has said.
But there is the most important of things.
There’s power.
Money.
There’s possibility.
There is no love.
I blink, my eyes flicking around, realizing I’m in a familiar parking lot, the area as dark and desolate as always, nothing to be seen but the soft-yellow light from inside the small store for miles. I don’t know how long I sit here, but it’s a long fucking time. Long enough for my ass to go numb and my mind to go crazy.
When I can’t take it any longer, I tear from the car and stomp my way across the dark space, straight inside it. The little old man behind the counter knows I’m coming before I’ve even set foot inside the door. He doesn’t have to say a word, the small smile he gives answer enough.
He called Bastian.
He called him, and he’s not coming.
He’s leaving me here to rot.
I want to fucking scream. I want to fight.
I want him to regret this.
Storming out of the building, I pull my phone from my pocket, slipping my card from the back.
I swipe it through the pump and then the one behind it.
My eyes grow foggy, and I refuse to acknowledge why as I lift the handles and squeeze. I watch the golden liquid puddle all around, pouring from both spouts until they grow heavy in my hands, and then I let them fall.
I move back to the car, put it in neutral and roll forward several feet, and then I take the Zippo from the center console and flick it open.
The man opens the door as I straighten once more, the flame bright in my hand.
His face falls, and he goes back inside, swiftly disappearing from sight.
I set the lighter down and get back inside the car, pulling out into the middle of the road.
I wait for the gasoline to roll its way down the uneven pavement until it catches.
And then it blows like a fucking bomb, a giant fireball spanning out like a balloon, before a billow of smoke lifts into the air.
Warm, hot streaks stain my cheeks as I watch the fire burn, turning the place into ash.
Into nothing.
Just like we are. Nothing.
I sit there, staring for a long time, vaguely aware of the sirens in the distance.
“Feel better now?” Sai’s voice is groggy, and when I look at him, his mouth curves into a small, sorrowful smile like he knows. Like he’s aware I’m unwanted and unworthy and royally fucked up.
Like the man inside the building who just lost his livelihood at my hand, I could argue it’s Bastian’s fault, but that isn’t really true.
What is, is that messing with people in our world leads to destruction, and now he knows.
His good deeds done here will be no more. He no longer has a reason to come back this way now. No reason to cross my path again.
“No,” I rasp, facing forward and heading back to my prison cell.
Fuck him.
Fuck everyone.
Chapter 28
Rocklin
Spinning on my feet, I place my heels at the edge and close my eyes. I take a deep, calming breath to clear my mind and prepare myself, but it doesn’t work. It never works anymore. Nothing does, which is why I’m here, fifty feet above the water, ready to throw myself into it, half hoping my lungs decide to seize and take me since no one else will. Or, at the very least, knock me out for a while, if only to give me a fucking break from the chaos inside my own mind.
Slowly arching my back, I push myself off the board, my body a straight line, toes pointed in the air above. The world whips past my eyes as I sail toward the water, my head in a neutral position.
The indescribable rush fills me all at once, and though I’m midair, time going by too fast to process, it’s as if I can breathe for the first time in months. My palms flatten just before I break into the water and then I’m deep within its depth, floating back to the surface before I’m ready. I don’t wait or take a breath, but swim to the edge, climb out and make my way back up the stairs. Then I do it again, and again, and again, until my lungs are heaving, the muscles in my neck straining, desperate for air my stupid, broken body refuses to allow.