Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“Good.” A look of relief washes over his face. “Because I need you to join me in what I have to do. I need you to be a part of it.”
Anxiety’s been tapping at the back of my mind since he started speaking, but now it’s threatening to break the door down. “How so?”
“I’m not asking you to hurt anybody—you don’t have to worry about that. I would never put you in that position.”
“But people are going to get hurt?”
His jaw tightens, eyes narrowing. “For starters.”
One thing about being a Rossi: the prospect of violence doesn’t bother me much. Especially when the violence is warranted. If anybody deserves it, it’s the sort of people who’d run a cult.
“I can’t hide it from you,” he continues with a frown. “So I won’t bother lying. Are you okay with knowing what we’re working toward?”
“You and your brother?” I ask, and he nods in reply. Right away, questions bubble up in my head, but I shove them back down before my mouth gets away from me. Again. “Do what you have to do. I’m not going to try to stop you.”
His face takes on a glow that leaves me glowing inside. For a moment, everything else falls away, and there’s nothing but us. No past, no vengeance. No stress or sleepless nights.
This is how it was always meant to be. Ren and me sharing breakfast, smiling at each other from across the table. Nothing big and flashy. Nothing exotic, no jet-setting. Just the two of us. That’s all I’ve ever needed.
I can almost forget the pain I know my family is suffering now as I sit here gazing at the man I love.
Almost.
I should find a way to contact them. Maybe suggest it while he’s in a good mood, acting like himself. Maybe if I mention Adela, it might be enough to get through to him. Adela and Mom. They’re innocent in his quest for vengeance.
If that fails, I’ll be honest and admit it pains me to know I’m hurting the people I love, as it would hurt to know I caused him agony.
Anything, so long as he lets me reach out and ease their minds.
“It might mean a little traveling.” He goes back to eating his oatmeal, inspiring me to do the same. Now that he’s got that off his chest, the weight on mine also seems to have lifted. There isn’t a massive fist squeezing my stomach, either.
“Okay.”
“But I doubt we’ll be on the road for long. I’ll have everything well in hand by the time it ever comes to that. No wandering around aimlessly.”
“I trust you.” Still, even though I mean it, the idea of going on a trip sparks fresh doubt. I really wish it wouldn’t. Why won’t my stupid brain stop screwing things up?
And just my luck, he notices. I don’t know how I gave it away. A muscle twitch? The inflection of my voice? No matter how, he sees through me. “What’s wrong?”
I shake my head, eyes on my food. I’ve never been so fascinated by plain old oatmeal. “Nothing. This is a lot to take in all at once, is all. But I’m fine.”
“Have you forgotten how long we’ve known each other? A wall came down in front of you just now.”
Terrific. I need to work on managing my reactions if he insists on watching me so closely. Especially when my reaction has to do with someone he probably won’t want to hear about.
Which is the better choice? Pretending nothing’s wrong or coming clean? Which one will keep us in this warm, cozy place where all that matters is being together?
“If we’re going to travel…” I hate this, I hate this, I hate it with every fiber of my being, with all the intensity of a thousand blazing suns. “I don’t know. It might not be a bad idea to get word to my dad and brother. Let them know I’m okay, and they don’t need to look for me. I don’t want us getting pulled over because there’s a description of us making the rounds, you know?”
Did that work? I sneak a glance at him, eyes darting up from what’s turning into concrete after cooling off, to find him scowling down at his bowl.
“We don’t have to,” I quickly add, almost tripping over my tongue in what’s dangerously close to panic. “I’m only thinking of you. There’s enough for you to worry about. You don’t need that extra concern. That’s all.”
He keeps me waiting for a beat. The longest beat of my life. It stretches out for years, millennia, while my gut twists, my heart seizes, and I forget to breathe. I would swear my wrists hurt worse than before, a silent reminder. A warning.
What will he do to me this time?
“I already sent a secure message to Q to tell him you’re safe.” He says it with enough sarcasm to send my heart plummeting. “But thank you. If I ever need you to be concerned for me, I’ll tell you so.”