Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“No bruises on the skin… I left bruises on the heart and mind. I had to, because I explained what I needed, and they pretended to fit the bill. They lied to me. I had a reputation to upkeep. I was rich, and I’d earned every damn dollar. Self-made. No handouts. Good looking. Had property, prestige, and power. I knew how to make a woman feel good from her body to her soul. Most of my ex-wives lied to get next to my money. To get fucked right. These women aimed to get a baby from me, so they would always get alimony and be attached to me, some way, some how. They lied so they could be the first lady of the Wilde family.
“But they soon found out that the stakes were high, and I didn’t want an imposter. You had to pull your fucking weight. I’ll give you all the furs, diamonds, cars, caviar, country club parties, and shopping sprees that your little heart desires, but gotdamn it, you better make my pain go away. You better be medicine to my soul. No matter what woman I chose to fuck, date or marry, it always ended up the same… I wasn’t satisfied. Nobody could kiss me like Tina. Talk to me like Tina. Fuck me like Tina. Heal me like Tina.”
He slipped his other shoe on, then stood and reached for his jacket that lay on a chair.
Here I am going to a damn wedding… it’s dredging up memories. That’s why my nap turned so bad. I ain’t been able to go one day in my life since knowin’ her without thinking about her. What a brutal thing to do. Make someone want you, and you up and disappear. She had to have known I would spend forever trying to chase that same high. All my old wounds, emotional and mental bruises and scars faded away. But she said I was still dark inside. The wounds are still fresh.
“She said that I was just hiding the truth from myself. Because the truth hurts. But I can tell you one thing, Cyrus…” He pointed at his reflection in the mirror. “I didn’t hurt when she was with me. I was drunk off love when that woman was around. So many men lusted after Tina, but she chose ME.” His eyes narrowed as he glared at himself. Hating his memories. “When she left me, after everything we’d been through and worked towards, I felt the pain of a million blades piercing my heart. I couldn’t understand why! I had never pretended to be someone I wasn’t with her. I told her the truth! She knew I was a black-souled man when she met me. She told me as much, without needing my confessions. She turned this frog into a prince. Without her, I tore up the China shop. Like my old nickname back in my youth: Wilde Bull.
She used to call me that, too. When she left me, she became my red rag. Waving it in my face, taunting me with memories of all that she was, and we used to be. Only problem was, my hate for her was still soaked in love. I could barely stand it. It wasn’t the rejection; it was her lack of presence in my life. Tina had found a way to keep my demons at bay. She kept me in check. She kept me accountable. I never went as far as I wished, because of HER. I TRIED! I TRIED! I TRIED! TINA! WHERE ARE YOU, GOTDAMN IT?! WHEN I FIND YOU, YOU WILL MARRY ME!”
He picked up an empty bottle of wine from his vanity and tossed it across the room. Shattered glass exploded against the wall like clear, sharp fireworks. He turned away, emotionally exhausted.
Tina said the Wilde Bull in me was up to no good. She’d punish me by closing her legs, closing her eyes when I came into a room, then closing her lips and mind to me, too. She’d lock me out of her world completely. It would ruin me, but I was too stubborn to let her see how much it affected me. Too prideful. “TINA, WHERE ARE YOU?!!!!!”
He pounded his fists against the wall, his heart pounding like fifteen galloping horses. He held his chest, the pain great. His nervous breakdown had resumed and was wrecking him, but he couldn’t stop.
“When she’d shut me out, admonish me, it would make me feel like a little boy again… the same boy covered in blood, on the ground, holding my Bible with trembling hands. Fresh welts on my back, and the sting of tears running down my face. Daddy standin’ over me…
CYRUS, YOU’RE A BAD BOY! A HORRIBLE CHILD! YOU’RE DISOBEDIENT!
“…I tried to be good, Daddy! I REALLY DID! I’M SORRY I BROKE YOUR VASE! I was tryna help Beth change the baby’s diaper. I swung my arm out too far, and knocked it off the dresser. I’M SORRY FOR NOT BEIN’ A GOOD HUNTER… I LET THE RABBIT GO BECAUSE HE LOOKED SAD! I’M SORRY DADDY!”