Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Whatever the reason, I do as he asks, and I leave, my heart falling to pieces as I drive away. In my rearview mirror, I can still see tiny sparks of amber glowing where the fire was, and it fills me with sorrow.
26
Tyler
My brother Tor told me—not too long ago, during one of our very rare talks—that karma is a demented bitch.
Oh, how right he was.
I fly down the mountain road, going double the speed limit, but I don’t care. I should, though, because the last thing I need is to end up with my head through someone’s living room wall again. But right now, all I care about is how fucked up and twisted the world is.
What is that theory about the six degrees of separation? That everyone is somehow connected in some way?
The slam of memories was too much to handle. I had to get away from her. And the fire. And the fucking sick twist of truth and regret.
I always had this weird feeling of déjà vu, in my gut, that I’d seen Holly’s haunting eyes before, and I was right. They were the last thing I saw before I was almost burnt alive.
And now, I also remember his eyes. The moment he pushed me, and the moment I killed him.
Why didn’t we do something? Why did Wendy laugh in her face? I don’t even remember that. I must have been too drunk, which was rare for me, but that night I had tried a few shots of whiskey for the first time. I barely remember the little girl tugging on my shirt, or wondering what the hell a little kid was doing at a bonfire party, but it’s coming back to me in erratic flashes.
By the time I was awake in my hospital room and coherent enough to form thoughts, I had completely forgotten about her. I remember the nurses talking about the abduction, but I never made the connection. It never spurred a memory. As pieces of that night flash through my mind, I realize I had assumed at the time the guy who pushed me was her father and she was one of those little kids who was constantly running off, like Tessie used to do. I force myself to think back as I roar through the winding roads on my bike, but I’m sure I never mentioned the little girl or the man to the police, the doctors, or my parents when they questioned me. I told them some drunk friend must have bumped into me. Holly was forgotten in the mess of my brain.
How the fuck do I tell her the twisted little epilogue to her story?
Tonight, I’m going to do my best to forget all about little abducted girls who grow up to be beautifully damaged women looking for love in the way fucking wrong place. I’m going to forget all about the love and happiness I felt, just an hour ago, before it all went up in a fiery inferno of twisted coincidence.
I need to forget everything.
My father. My future. My face. My family. Holly.
I’m going to forget that everything is my fault, if it kills me.
Reaching behind me into my saddlebag, I pull out my mask and yank it over my face as I ride toward the warehouse. I need to fight. I need to hurt someone, and I need more pain to take away the agony I’m feeling. My opponent will hit me harder if he can’t see my already scarred-up face. They always do. Maybe he’ll fuck me up beyond recognition, so no one will ever know who I am. Not even me.
I would welcome it.
27
Holly
“I’m the only one you can rely on, little girl. I’m the only one who loves you enough to never leave.”
Perhaps he was right. He was right about a lot of things, now that I think about it.
I don’t want to go home and face Feather, but I have nowhere else to go. I certainly can’t go to my parents, and I don’t know how to get to Zac’s house. I send Feather a text, telling her I won’t be home. Now I understand the appeal of the text message to avoid having to talk to someone. Restless and confused, I drive around town listening to music.
So this is what it’s like to have a car. You can drive all night and not go anywhere.
I turn the station to rock music, and the angsty music gets into my head, every song seeming to hold a hidden meaning into my life.
Making a careful U-turn, I drive back to his house. I don’t care if he’s not there and told me to go, he also told me I could come any time I want. He said this was my happy, safe place, and that’s what I need right now.