Total pages in book: 167
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157162 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
But I found myself unable. Me. Calliope Derrick. Unable to hurt a man.
Unable to hurt the man I loved.
I would go to the grave with many sins, but that would not be one of them.
“You will fuckin’ not,” he growled. “You will fucking not go at this alone. I get feminism, and I appreciate it. I’ll march in the streets with you when this is over, I’ll do whatever the fuck you want. But you cannot let yourself die at the hands of a bunch of fucking men when you’ve got plenty of them right here, willing to fight at your side, under your command.”
The passion with which he said the words, the fervor, made him rival Mel Gibson in Braveheart for most inspiring speech.
I smiled without warmth. The only way I’d be able to keep him safe was to turn into an ice queen, shutting myself off from my feelings.
“You think I need an army of men to fight an army of men?” I shook my head. “I did this. I’m responsible for damning myself, so I’ll be responsible for saving myself.”
His hands tightened on my hips almost to the point of pain. “I’m not going to let you do this, Calliope.”
“And what gave you the impression that you can let me do anything?” I arched a brow at him. “Are you going to knock me out? Tie me to a chair? That’ll slow me down, yes. And taking away my agency will kill anything between us. So do it.” I looked down to his hands on my hips in challenge. “Force me to stay.”
Elliot’s grip flexed for a millisecond before he let go, stepping back. It was no surprise. He would never do that to me.
“I will not force you to do anything, Calliope,” he said quietly. “I’ll ask you to accept help. I’ll get on my knees and fucking beg if that’s what it takes.”
My heart panged, this whole process hurting a lot more than I’d expected. In fact, it was incredibly difficult not to sink to my own knees. I’d never experienced such agony before.
Yet the pain meant I was doing the right thing. Without it, saving myself from being hurt, meant putting Elliot in danger.
Being a good person was excruciating. Figured. That’s why there were so many assholes in the world.
“No,” I replied softly. “I won’t accept help. Because I don’t need it. I’ll fight my battles. Lose them if need be. And you’ll be here, safe.”
Elliot looked fierce, like a warrior ready to battle me. Even though he was good and decent and noble. I saw it then, that protective glint in his eye that I saw in my brother’s when he looked at Nora. Like he’d do anything, be anything in order to keep her safe.
“I’m not safe if you’re in danger.” His whole body vibrated with tension. Grief. Rage.
“I love you,” I smiled, telling him this fact instead of continuing an argument that would run us both into the ground.
He didn’t verbally reply to my words, he grimaced. As if I’d struck him, then he scowled at me. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed. “Don’t you dare say you love me only because you know there’s a chance you won’t be back to live with the consequences of loving me. I won’t accept that shit.”
It might’ve amused me, and it definitely would’ve turned me on, to see that other side of Elliot in any other circumstance. Instead, it made me incredibly sad.
“You don’t have to accept it for it to be true,” I shrugged, forcing my voice to remain level.
I saw the look on his face, the battle, the love. I wanted to hoard it. Wanted this to be the last thing I saw of him before I left. Wanted so terribly for him to see me as the honorable, brave soldier going to battle—in fights she started—on her own, to protect those she loved.
But that only happened in movies.
“He killed her,” I said flatly. “Jasper. He killed Naomi.”
Elliot’s face froze at my words, staring at me, unblinking.
My hands stayed at my sides, my eyes on his, my face blank as my insides curdled. “I’ve known. For months. Since it happened. And I didn’t tell you. Because I’m a coward. Because I didn’t want you to look at me like you are now. Like you really see me.”
It was true. Elliot’s face was contorted in horror, disbelief. I’d managed to kill that reverence. I’d booted myself off the pedestal he’d put me on. I was down in the dirt where I belonged.
“Goodbye, Elliot,” I whispered.
I turned my back and walked out before I lost my nerve.
I moved quickly. I knew I had to. He was the man I loved. The one who had quickly become my whole life without me noticing. He was standing in the middle of his living room shocked, disgusted, betrayed. But even that bombshell might not have kept him rooted to the spot, might not have made him disregard all of his feelings for me. It gave me time, though. To do what I needed to do.