Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 811(@200wpm)___ 649(@250wpm)___ 540(@300wpm)
“I’ll say whatever you want me to say,” he responds, “But it’s highly unlikely that it’ll make a difference.”
My brows furrow. “How do you know?”
“Because, baby.” He kisses the top of my head and holds me closer. “It wouldn’t make a difference to me.”
I sit with that for a moment. Lachlan’s done a lot to try to get me and then to keep me, but there’s no doubt in my mind, that if I put an end to this and made it clear that I didn’t want him, he’d stop. It would kill him. I know that because it would kill me as well, but he’d do it because he loves me. Jameson doesn't love me; he just wants to possess me. It occurs to me that I may not be his only victim. For years, I thought I was, but when you take away the love aspect, and are only left with obsession and control, things look a little different. It would make sense if he gets off on doing this to multiple people. God, I hope not. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. I put it out of my head and focus on the familiar buildings we’re driving by.
I haven’t been here since that night, so seeing my shared apartment with Marissa feels strange. It’s currently being rented by two guys. Her mom packed up all of our things, and put most of it in storage. Marissa hasn’t been back here either. She only sees her parents out of town, which kills me since I know how much Gina loves to have her daughter home for the holidays. She’s told Marissa countless times to bring me along, and still always sends me a present for Christmas. She knows enough not to ask any questions, or bring us up to my father or anyone else in Fairview. She’s how I got those pictures of Lach that are in my office.
When we drive by Prescott’s old place, I smile at the memory of being there with Lach. I When I look at these streets, the only memories that come to mind are the ones with him. I look up at him and catch him lost in thought as he looks outside.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, pulling away so I’m no longer leaning against him.
“That you’re the only thing I miss about this place.” He links our hands together, his eyes still outside.
“Not the parties or the girls?” I raise an eyebrow, hating the way the question makes me feel.
Amused eyes flash to mine. “Are you jealous, Lyla James?”
“No.” I scowl.
He chuckles and leans in to kiss me softly. “I don’t miss the parties or the girls. You were in my life for less than three months, and you managed to become the best thing of my college experience.”
“I’m not sure if I believe you, but I accept that answer.” I smile and look outside again. “Have you been back here at all?”
“Once.” He lets out a harsh laugh. “I met the new team and had lunch with Coach Rob and Jameson.”
Anger shoots through me. “I hate him.”
“It really makes me wonder if all those times he reached out, he was just trying to get information on where you were,” he says. “Or trying to find out whether or not we were together.”
My anger grows. We spent three years of our lives apart, because of him. I’m all for “everything happens for a reason,” but this was forced by a person with an obsession and a God complex. He killed my mother and one of my best friends. He tried to kill me and was unsuccessful, but I still missed out on a season and a half of soccer. I missed out on the rest of my college experience. I ran from the love of my life because I was terrified of what might happen to him. All of those things sit heavy over my chest as we turn onto the street that leads to the new building.
“I really hate him,” I whisper, as Ronnie parks at the curb.
Lach opens the door and I take his hand, as he helps me out of the car and keeps it in his while he speaks to Derek again. Ronnie looks at me when I lean into the backseat.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen, but if he gets me alone, try to get everything he says before you come for me.”
Ronnie stares at me for a long moment before he gives a sharp nod. I step back out and look around, over my shoulder, down the street, and inside the building. There are people arriving behind us — women wearing nice dresses and men in suits. I see a few familiar faces, but I don’t know anyone. It isn't until Lach tugs my hand that I realize I’m just standing there. He looks at me, eyes full of concern, and I squeeze his hand to let him know I’m fine. I’m not; I’m shutting down, but I don’t need to tell him that. He knows me better than anyone. His green eyes scan my face for a moment.