Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“Well, maybe he deserves a word or two.” She wiggles her eyebrows like this is sage advice, but she fills the second glass to the rim and tops off mine. “Tomorrow. I’ll go with you.”
Right.
Tomorrow.
That tomorrow comes far too quickly, and of course it has to be raining outside. The kind of heavy rain that indicates it might just be a sign I should turn around and stop what we are doing, but Reagan isn’t taking no for an answer. So much so, that she insists on driving so I don’t turn around. While she does, I nervously chew my nail down to the flesh and count the potholes. At the hospital, she practically drags me through the front door, my steps purposefully slow.
When Reagan is on a mission, there is no stopping her.
We find out his new room number, and when we’re outside, I pause, my Converse coming to a screeching stop on the tiled floor.
“Don’t back out now,” Reagan says, reaching for the door handle. “This needs to be done. Neither of you will move on until it is.”
I grit my teeth, but I don’t argue.
She shoves the door open, not even a knock.
Travis is sitting upright on the hospital bed, talking to Harley, who stands at the window eating a tub of green hospital jelly. Travis’s hair is still the messy length that is starting to grow on me. Something about the unkempt look suits him. His chest is bare, tape, stitches, and tattoos exposed to every nurse that walks in. I’m quite sure he is popular. Every muscle is cut sharper now, and he has filled out more in the last two years.
He’s dangerously gorgeous.
Both eyes turn in our direction.
“Well, this should be fun,” Harley grins, tossing the empty jelly cup into the bin.
Reagan giggles.
Travis’s eyes cut to me. Not a word, but the whole air in the room suddenly gets thick.
“Travis, I’ve seen you looking better,” Reagan says, walking over and giving him a hug, whether he wants it or not.
“Reagan,” he murmurs, voice still croaky but stronger. “Good to see you.”
I stand, awkwardly, not knowing exactly what to do.
“Well,” Harley claps his hands. “As entertaining as I know this will be, I gotta run. Reagan, I’ll call you later. And you two,” he looks between Travis and me. “Don’t kill each other.”
Then, he’s gone.
Silence stretches on, and Reagan looks awkwardly out the window.
“So,” I say, once again attempting to go for humour. “You didn’t die.”
Travis gives a hollow snort but doesn’t say anything.
I glance at my feet. “You look... stronger. Than you did last time, at least.”
“Last time you’d seen me I just woke from a fuckin’ coma and found out you were back in town. Safe to say, I wasn’t my best.”
I look to Reagan, and her eyes are wide as she stares at me. Then, she nods at me to keep going.
“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me again, but I couldn’t leave things the way they were.”
He lifts his chin, and his eyes are impassive. He isn’t letting me see a single thing. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d skipped town again so I’m surprised you’re here.”
He’s angry, that’s fine. I can take his anger.
I bite the inside of my cheek, hard. “Well, I didn’t. I came here to talk to you, because I wasn’t going anywhere until I did.”
His fingers twitch on the blanket, the only part of him that shows any kind of movement. “Well, how big of you.”
“No offence, but I actually don’t owe you anything, Travis.”
He barks out a laugh that sounds like it hurts. “Of course you don’t. You never fuckin’ face anything, do you, Violet.”
“Seriously? You’re angry that I walked away and never looked back. What the hell did you want me to do exactly? Sit around and watch you destroy yourself and us, over and over again?”
He flinches, and his face hardens. “The very least you could have done was let me fuckin’ talk to you, to have closure, to say goodbye...”
“Oh, what a load of crap,” I bark. “As if you would have let me go. We both know you wouldn’t have accepted me leaving. So don’t act like I had a choice.”
“There is always a fucking choice,” he grinds out.
I shake my head. “That’s not fair. You lied to me, Travis. You kept shit from me, shit that hurt. I left because you didn’t let me in, not just once, but over and over again.”
He grits his teeth. For a moment he looks like he might lose it, but then his voice drops low, dangerous. “Did you ever ask why? Did you ever think for a fucking second that maybe I thought I was protecting you? That I wasn’t doing it to hurt you? You don’t always get all the answers, Violet. Some things I keep because I have to.”