Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
And because of that, he’s pushed away the only light in his life—Violet. I feel a sort of camaraderie with her, you know. She has this sad look in her eyes that reminds me of that seven-year-old version of me. A sadness that I couldn’t shake off, no matter what I did.
She’d also be a perfect member of the Mommy Issues Club that Vi, Jude, and I should form.
Anyway, Jude’s being a dick, pushing everyone, including Violet, away, and it’s no bueno.
If both of us spiral, who’s going to keep me from accidentally killing myself?
I’m waiting for Dr. Duret to come back, for Lenin to show up.
But mostly, I’m waiting for Marcus to text me back.
I pull out my phone, staring at it as the rain blurs the screen. And nope, no new texts. All I can see is the conversation we had after I left.
Marcus
Are you okay? Just tell me you are, and I’ll leave you alone.
Yes, I have him saved as his name now, I guess.
And no, I didn’t reply to that text, because what the hell would I say when I was creeped out with myself for hurting him?
The way he was asking about me made my guilty feelings a hundred times worse.
And I might have considered free-falling to my death from the roof of my house. Happened before, only, I didn’t die, so I thought the second time would be a winner, right?
Marcus, being Marcus, texted again the next day.
Marcus
I made tacos. Are you coming tonight?
Me
No.
Why not?
Because we don’t need to meet every day.
Are you sure it’s not because you’re running away again?
Why the fuck do I need to run away from you?
You tell me, Preston. Every time I think I have you, something comes up, and you decide to shut me out. I tried to be patient, and I certainly tried not to push your limits and to wait for you to open up, but this is obviously not working.
What the fuck does “not working” mean?
It means just that. This isn’t working the way it is right now. You can’t keep running and expect me to chase you.
Are you…ending it?
Is that what you want?
You’re not the one fucking ending it, Marcus. I am! Fuck you, asshole. I give you five minutes of attention, and you believe you can have me? ME? THE Preston Armstrong?
Yes, wishful thinking on my part. I’m sorry I ever dreamed of that. Goodbye, Preston.
He blocked me.
I laugh to myself, because, you know, the idea Dr. Duret and I discussed isn’t wrong. I should go find him and slice his fucking throat open.
If I can’t have him, he should die.
Wow. I sound like a true lunatic. I mean, I know I am, but this is hitting home.
Murderous, toxic psycho alert.
Damn.
Reality is, I’d never hurt him, at least, not more than I already have.
I’m just bluffing, because if I had a knife in my hand and Marcus was in front of me, I’d turn it on myself and stab my own heart.
My chest hurts. It hurts so much, I can barely breathe.
What type of fuckery is this?
Heartbreak, I think.
I’m just so heartbroken that Marcus told me goodbye. Is he truly not going to hear me out anymore?
Not until you tell him everything. And I mean everything, the voice that’s too similar to Dr. Duret’s whispers in my head.
“You’ve completely lost your mind,” Lilith stands beside me.
She’s holding an umbrella and doesn’t even try to cover me, too busy looking me up and down. “You’ve become a dangerous loose cannon. Your grandma would love to get rid of you, and even Miley will be scared of you eventually.”
“Keep her away from me,” I whisper, tilting my head in her direction as rainwater falls in rivulets down my face. “You, too, Lilith, stay away. I’d hate to accidentally snap your neck.”
She purses her lips. “How dare you threaten me?”
“I never told you this before, but the only reason you continue to breathe is because I don’t want Miley to grow up without a mother. It messes kids up—life without mothers, I mean. But you know that very well. You’ve seen firsthand how it makes one of them disturbingly clingy to fake-ass strangers just because they say a few nice words and put on a show.”
Her lips tremble as she takes a step back. “You—”
“Get the fuck out of my face!”
She trips and almost falls, but she turns and practically runs to the house as I stay there watching the fire cool down.
For what seems like forever, I continue checking my phone every other minute, hoping for what, I don’t know.
Marcus wouldn’t reply. If anything, he should be glad to have gotten rid of me.
The staff disappears, what remains of the car is loaded up and taken away, and soon enough, the area outside the garage is empty except for me and my now-dead phone.