Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“No, but you didn’t deserve to be put in that position. Sounds like it was either him or your mom. You shouldn’t feel guilty. You saved her life. You did what anyone would do.”
Her eyes lifted to meet mine. “Is that true? Anyone would’ve grabbed a bat and bashed him over the head with it?” Her green eyes flashed.
“Probably not anyone. That took balls.” I exhaled. “I’m sorry you have to live with the guilt. And I can understand why you were so shaken by what happened out there tonight.”
“It doesn’t take much to trigger me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“You didn’t do anything.”
“Like I said, I brought you here.” I wished I could wrap this girl in my arms right now, but that would seem creepy. “Do you need help?” I asked instead. “Like, do you see a therapist? You should talk to someone if you’re still struggling with everything.”
“Well…” She sighed. “I haven’t wanted to rehash it. But perhaps I need to force myself at some point.”
“The band has a shrink, believe it or not. She does remote therapy. Doug got the idea a while ago when Atticus went off the deep end, and he thought we were going to break up. He told us we should all get our heads checked and then hired her—Dr. Jensen. I’m sure she can fit you in.”
“I’m not part of the band.”
“Everyone on this tour is part of the band. I’ll make sure you get in with her, if you want to. And I’ll make sure it’s paid for if the insurance they gave you doesn’t cover it.”
“That’s nice of you, but you don’t owe me anything.”
I ignored her comment. “What’s your last name?”
“Applewood.”
“I’ll mention you to her, if you want. I can have her office reach out.”
“That’s very gracious of you. I’ll let you know, okay?”
“You shouldn’t have to keep it all inside. That’s the worst thing we can do to ourselves. Suffer in silence.” I should know. Though my problems as of late were nothing compared to what this poor girl had been through.
“Do you do that?” she asked. “Suffer in silence?”
It was like she’d read my mind. “My issues aren’t like yours, but yeah, I do keep things inside. I’m definitely struggling with my own shit lately.” I shrugged. “Isn’t everyone, though?”
Emily nodded. “I’m sorry.”
I could tell she meant it. Emily Applewood seemed like an empathetic person. A strong person. Tough life experiences only make people stronger. She was young, but some things age you fast.
I got lost in her eyes for a moment. She was beautiful—not in the fake way most of the women I’d been around recently were. But in a natural way. Her long brown hair was wavy and had a reddish tint when it caught the light. She had a small gap between her two front teeth that I found oddly appealing, sexy even, especially framed by full lips that were cherry red without lipstick. Not an ounce of makeup on her fresh face, yet she was perfect. Perfect on the outside, and perfectly imperfect on the inside. She wasn’t trying to impress me. She wasn’t trying to be anyone other than who she was. Emily had gotten a bum deal for trying to do the right thing. And that made me angry. Life wasn’t fair.
“Anyway, I’d appreciate you not telling anyone about this,” she said, fiddling with her hands. “I don’t need people here knowing what I just told you.”
I shook my head. “I would never, Emily.” I took a step toward her. “Never. I hope you know that.”
“Anyway…” She looked back toward the hotel room door. “I’d better go.”
Fuck. I didn’t want her to leave. I wanted her to stay and talk to me, tell me what had led her mother to date a man so abusive he’d almost killed her. Where was Emily’s father? Where was she from? I was really curious about her—maybe because being in her presence was the first time I’d felt a normal human connection in as long as I could remember. But there was absolutely no good reason to ask a twenty-two-year-old to stay and chat in your room. She’d have every right to assume my intentions were questionable, since my reputation unfortunately preceded me.
“Yeah, okay,” I said. “Have a good night. Thanks for chatting with me.”
“Thank you for the ibuprofen.” She smiled before heading out.
After she left, I stared at the door, wishing she’d forgotten something, wishing she’d come back. Even if that was just a fantasy.
I eventually settled in my bed, my failed attempts at writing music surrounding me. But I couldn’t shake Emily from my mind. What she’d done to protect her mom…
I told myself to mind my fucking business, but the urge became too great. I grabbed my laptop and searched Emily Applewood.
Sure enough, a story popped up from a news station in St. Louis, Missouri.