Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Ryan, please, I need to talk to you!” Kieran sounds so mad, it frightens me.
“Go away!” Ryan’s voice doesn’t even seem to be coming from beyond the briars, but as though the briars themselves are shouting at Kieran.
“Please. Just talk to me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
No, you didn’t hurt him! He loves you!
“I told you to stop! I kept telling you to stop, and you never did! You know what you did!”
“Please, just don’t tell Father. He’ll be so mad. He might even make me leave. I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
As Kieran cries, I want to rush to help him, but I remain still, watching.
“Leave me alone! I never want to talk to you again!”
“Please, Ryan! I love you!”
“You wouldn’t have done that if you loved me. You would have listened to me. You would have cared.”
“Ryan, get over here!” Kieran’s rage returns, and I’m trembling because it reminds me of other times when I’ve made him angry. Like those times when I would try to deny him, before I realized how much he loved me.
“There’s a word for what you did to me,” Ryan calls out.
Oh, why did he have to say that?
When I finally reach the briar barrier, I search for the entrance. If only I’d followed Ryan out here more. If only he hadn’t done such an exquisite job of keeping this secret from me.
I search around desperately for the path, in vain, and I don’t have the fucking time to find it. If I don’t get proof, he and Jonas will leave, and I’ll never have another chance.
I kick at the briars and use the letter opener like a machete, slicing around me to break through. I’m mad with power as I successfully carve into the bushes, but not without pain as thorns scrape against my arms and dig through my jeans.
Fuck, they burn like my other wounds, though I embrace them because I hope the pain will keep my mind from reliving the memories that won’t leave me alone.
But being among these briars makes that impossible.
Ryan’s words send Kieran to his knees, and he howls and covers his ears, but it’s too late. He can’t unhear that vicious accusation.
The memory distracts me too much, and as I lose track of my work, my wrist gets caught in a tight collection of twisted-up briars.
“Fuck!” I call out as I struggle to free myself, but it stings so sharply that I drop the letter opener.
Using my phone with my other hand, I spot it through a series of stems. Weaving my hand through, I grab at the knife but miss, losing my balance in the process and shifting my foot in just the right place to tighten the stems around my wrist. I curse out as both wrists now grapple with their restraints.
I scream, unleashing the pain, not just from the briars, but what’s been chasing me through these woods.
Pressed up against me, Kieran tries to kiss my neck. I pull away, but he snatches my arm. “No, Kieran. Not now. Maybe later,” I beg, but he’s too hungry for me.
This memory collides with the one of Ryan pinned to the ground.
“Simon, help!”
I’m frozen.
What’s happening?
Why is this happening?
My struggle with my mind and the restraints feels insurmountable, and they coalesce in a fit as I thrash about, my recklessness only causing me more agony, thorns tearing into flesh as I throw my head back and scream into the night.
I can’t die like this. I can’t die until I’ve shown Jonas.
And yet, if these briars don’t tear me apart, I fear my memories might finish the job.
32
RYAN
“I just hope, wherever he is, he’s not cutting himself anymore.” I place a stack of folded tees into my suitcase.
Jonas hooks his arm around me, nestling his face against my cheek.
My bedroom’s dimly lit, illuminated with my phone light on my nightstand and the lantern on the fireplace mantel.
After Simon fled the library, the power cut off, and we managed with our phones while Jonas contacted the police and I tended to his injury, disinfecting the wound before wrapping it with some gauze from the first aid kit. Then we searched for the cause of the outage, discovering that the cables at the power box had been severed, which confirmed our suspicion that this was Simon’s handiwork. I figure he was hoping to make it difficult for us to leave. Then Nell and Kace helped us search the house for my brother for about twenty minutes before the cops arrived. And after describing Simon’s erratic and harmful behavior—while leaving out the more personal details that came up during the fight—the officers agreed to search the premises, requesting that we text them if he returned.
Despite all the terrible things he said, I’m still worried about him. In all the years we’ve been together, I’ve never seen Simon snap like that. Never watched him slice into himself. Never heard him shout as he did while running through the halls.