Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
She hesitates before she slowly moves her feet. We make our way up the stairs in silence. I open the door and Marney's sitting in the recliner watching the television. He glances over at us, frowning when he glances at Tor. He gets up and comes to stand next to us, putting an arm around her. She throws her arms around his broad waist, shocking the shit out of me.
He hugs her, his eyes welling up. "We'll take care of you little darlin’." His eyes fix on mine. "We'll take care of her."
I guide Tor through the house, and when we walk past Caleb's room, I feel her body tense. I purposefully keep my eyes trained ahead of me. I refuse to let my mind go there. I cannot drown in this shitty feeling trying to swallow me because I can't take care of her if I do. I inhale, telling myself I have to live in denial that Caleb is actually gone. Denial is the only way I can manage this.
The door to my bedroom creaks open, and she slowly walks in, stopping beside the bed. I know I should say something to her, but what the fuck do I say? Every-fucking-thing has been taken from her. And the thing that terrifies me the most is that I know what happens when everything has been ripped from you. I know what the violence bleeding through this world does to even the strongest of people. It makes you numb; it breeds hate, and it makes you a fucking monster.
She walks over to the picture of my mother and sister and stares at it.
For the first time since I lost them fifteen years ago, I'm thankful Joe killed them. It was actually an act of mercy because had he not, they would be in the same place Tor is right now. One look at her eyes tells me she's in a place worse than hell. She's hurting, and I want to take the pain away from her. I want to blot out every horrible thing that has happened to her. I would be a fucking martyr for this woman if I could.
"I'm sorry," I say, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
She flinches, her breath catching as her eyes dart up to me. I feel my throat tighten. Sorry doesn't touch on how I feel, and that word can do nothing. It's just a word, but it's the only word I can think to say to her. My mind is so fucking jumbled.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to find you," I whisper. "I tried. The second Joe called me I started looking." I inhale. "I feel like I failed you."
I want to scream. I want to punch something, but I can't.
She remains silent. Her finger slowly traces over the picture; then she turns to face me. "I understand now," she whispers.
"Understand what?"
Her empty eyes meet mine. "You," she says.
Fuck. Her comment stabs me. I don't want her to be able to understand any of this. Her heart is beating, but inside, she's dead and gone. I can't recall how many times I've washed blood from my hands without the slightest twinge of guilt, without the tiniest thought that I did something wrong. What has happened to Tor forces a wave of guilt over me that nearly knocks me to the ground. I wish she would cry, or blame me, anything because I can't deal with this emotionless state of nothingness.
"I don't know how to help you..." I murmur as I cautiously step toward her.
"You can't help me. No one can," she says beneath her breath.
I tenderly take her hand, pulling her against me. She stiffens briefly, and I freeze. "Tor," I say quietly, "I would never hurt you." I swallow because I'm not sure she can believe me.
I'm so mixed with emotions, always swinging between rage, guilt, and grief; so I just focus on her. I focus on how she feels in my arms, on the fact that I have to keep everything together to protect her because she is all I have left now that Caleb is gone.
I run my hand along her side. She's grown so thin I can feel every fucking rib. She pulls away from me, and without a word, climbs onto the bed. She lays on her side and draws her knees to her chest.
She looks so fucking small and weak, and it breaks my fucking heart. This is all that's left, a shell of the person she once was. Joe has murdered my family. He killed my brother and left him in that room to rot with Tor. He kept Tor alive for the mere fact that he knew watching her like this would be the cruelest form of punishment he could ever inflict on me. Watching someone you love suffer is worse than burying them, especially when you know there's no way to mend them.