Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Janus insisted she just needed time and space. That she was like a bird or some shit, and the more we tried to grasp at her, the quicker she’d flit right out of our fingers.
I didn’t know when my brother had gotten so poetic and metaphorical.
I felt more and more like a caveman every day I went without seeing her face.
She was carrying my babies. I wanted her in my fucking cave. I wanted to go hunt shit, kill it, and wrap her in my furs.
Being stuck here in the apartment for the last couple months, trapped because of my broken leg…
I dug my crutches into the cobblestones and hobbled forward even quicker.
Being caught still sure makes a man rethink things.
A lot of things. Fuck, I’d been so stupid for how I’d handled… everything.
With Hope.
With my whole goddamned life.
Hope didn’t trust us because she thought we’d lied to her about the past. And I guess we had, by omission anyway. We let her believe what the whole world did. It was the image we’d projected and protected so carefully:
That I wasn’t a huge fuck up.
I’d been… weak in letting my brother take the fall for me all those years ago. He swore it would just end up being a few weeks in juvie and that the judge would go easy on him.
And I’d been… in a bad state.
It felt like he was saving my life at the time. He’d found me on that bridge and made me promise… If I would just let him do this one last thing for me, that it was what brothers did for one another. That I had to promise to get myself right while he was inside, and I did.
I’ve kept myself right ever since. Sort of. I kept away from drugs and only drink socially now. I saw a therapist for years to work through some shit.
But after what Janus went through on the inside, things have never been the same between us.
I broke us. I know I did.
Some things you can’t come back from.
So maybe I’m getting what I always deserved. The part of me that went to therapy says that we were all just little kids, and never deserved any of the shit that came our direction way before any of us were ready. And that same part of me recognizes it colored everything that came after.
Meeting Hope and the incredibly strong emotions she evoked in all of us just stirred it all back up. She brought to the surface all the old resentments, rivalries, and… well, a lot of shit I didn’t even understand yet.
I just knew I needed her and I’ve been drowning without her.
I could be the man she needs me to be too. I’ll step up.
So I’d been giving her the space Janus said she needed even if it was fucking killing me. Because while I wasn’t a good man yet, I could be.
I could be.
For her.
I’d just never met a compelling enough reason before.
The phone in my pocket started ringing. I thought about letting it go to voicemail because I was almost to the fountain where I could sit down and take a load off this damn leg.
But something—maybe my damn mood—made me obstinately stop, perch uncertainly in the center of the plaza with my crutches embedded in the corner of several cobblestones and grab for my phone.
“What?” I barked after pressing the button.
“Is this Leander? Leander Mavros?”
I frowned at the unfamiliar voice and number. Was it a fan or another goddamned reporter? “Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“It’s about Hope. She’s in trouble.”
Fuck. I immediately snapped to attention. “Where?” I demanded. “What happened?”
“She fell. She’s been getting these dizzy spells. I kept telling her we needed to go to the doctor about it—”
My body flooded with adrenaline. “Where is she? Goddammit, tell me she’s still in Italy. What hospital?”
I was close to a taxi hub but not close enough. I started heading towards it even while awkwardly holding the phone on speaker.
“San Raffaele Hospital. Yes, we’re still in Milan. She’s awake and alert and in with the doctor now. But when she fainted, she fell forwards—”
“She fucking fainted?!” I yelled it but tried to calm my voice as I continued, “Fine, fine. I’m on my way. I’ll be there in—” I waved down a taxi that pulled in, shoving in front of a young tourist-looking guy and yanking in my crutches behind me.
“How long to Milan?” I asked the driver, then mentioned the hospital. He named an outrageous fare and I nodded impatiently anyway. “Go.”
Then I relayed the time he gave me over the phone. I assumed I was speaking with Hope’s friend, Makayla, but I didn’t really care at the moment. “I’ll be there in two hours. Call me if there’re any updates. You swear?”