Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
"No, I guess it hasn't," I agreed. "But things are different. We're different."
"It's a good thing you plan on sticking around for a while then," he said, plugging on quickly so I couldn't interject and remind him that I hadn't made any promises about how long I would be staying around.
"We aren't going to be public with this, are we?"
"Worried about your dad?"
"I think you're the one who should be worried about my dad," I reminded him.
"Probably right," he agreed, fingers moving up to trace up the short sides of my hair. "What made you buzz your head?"
"Practicality," I told him, giving him enough of the truth but not all of it. "I recently grew the top longer."
"It suits you. Always liked your long hair, but think this suits your personality."
"You don't really know my personality. Not anymore."
"I'm learning. And I am liking it. If you stop being such a pain in the ass, I could learn more."
"I'm not being a pain in the ass. I'm being cautious."
"You know what I think, Ace?"
"What?"
"Think you maybe need someone you can talk to."
"I can't talk to anyone."
"Babe, the fuck we going to be able to start if you won't talk to me?"
"I do talk to you."
"About the other shit."
"I can't talk to you about the other shit."
"Yes, you can."
"No, I can't," I objected, pushing up, looking down at him.
"You're going to have to."
"I don't have to do anything."
"Alright, let's not do this right now," he suggested, holding up a hand.
"You're right. Let's not do this," I agreed, moving over him, standing off the side of the bed.
"You know that's not what I meant." He sighed, reaching out, but I was already pulling on my panties, my tank.
"Look," I said, taking a deep breath, reminding myself that normal people who lived normal lives opened up, shared. Even if there was shame. Even if there was insecurity. The problem was, I was not a normal person and I didn't live a normal life. And the things I had done were things that normal people couldn't handle. Vance might have been an outlaw biker, but there wasn't blood on his hands. There weren't nightmares that kept him awake. I couldn't open up to him. But I also couldn't exactly be mad at him for not understanding why I couldn't. "If you want something here, you need to understand that there is some shit about me that you can't know about, that I can't tell you."
"And if I can't accept that?" he asked, those piercing eyes of his almost sad.
"Then I guess this stops before it really starts."
Ten
Vance - Present Day
She was a stubborn ass.
Still.
I couldn't decide if I was relieved by that fact or annoyed.
Or maybe both.
Probably both, I decided as I dragged myself into the shower a little before seven in the morning, knowing Summer was already up, had already been up for hours, excitedly cleaning the clubhouse, likely jotting down a long list of things to make one of us grab from the store.
I knew she'd been up because I'd been up.
I'd been up because it was proving impossible to sleep after Ferryn left.
I'd tossed for hours before I finally gave up.
I didn't know what Ferryn had been up to over the years, but judging by the map of scars on her body, she hadn't exactly been knitting sweaters and eating BonBons.
Whatever she'd been doing, she found herself bleeding more than a few times. The weird scar on her hip, dozens up her arms, four on the stomach and rib area, one particularly gruesome one near her throat that had some serious fucking implications it made my stomach twist to think about.
Her life had clearly been hard and dark and cold and ugly for a long time.
It was hard for her to even understand light and warm and comforting. Let alone to accept it as something she could have.
I knew I needed to understand that.
I knew she would need time.
I could give her that.
She'd consumed almost nine fucking years of my life already. I'd been searching for her in every bar and grocery store in every state I had been in for nearly a decade.
I could give her more time.
The question was if she would give it to me.
Clearly, I had no fucking idea what her life was about since she left Navesink Bank, but it was still an active part of her life. It still made her run when her phone rang. And that meant I would never know how much time I had with her before she would up and run off. For who knew how long.
She was a known flight risk.
I didn't want to clip her wings.
I just wanted her to know I could fly too.
Or I could hang back and wait for her to return.
So long as she returned.
Which was what I had to convince her to keep doing.