Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
She has made sure to let me know every time she’s been socially taxed for the sin of standing by me. One night, she even told me that it wasn't that she didn’t believe me about what happened, it’s my response that she takes issue with. She said sometimes it’s easier to let certain things go. Ironic coming from her, because I have never once witnessed her letting something go in the entirety of our lives, but it quickly became clear she wasn’t talking about all relationships—just the ones involving men. “When I was around your age, my boyfriend nearly strangled me to death one night. I broke up with him after, but I didn’t make a big deal about it,” she told me.
That didn’t strike me as anything to be proud of and definitely nothing to advise your daughter to emulate.
What I felt absolutely betrayed by is the fact that nobody ever seems to be angry with them. Not only did they raise a rapist, then stand by him and refuse to even apologize for what he did to me, but they also made every attempt to drag my name through the mud in his defense. I had probably wanted to sleep with him, and I panicked afterward because I had a boyfriend. “Regret isn’t rape,” his lawyer said with a straight fucking face.
I can’t believe I have to see that odious man again.
Actually, that’s probably why Tor is here.
Last night, I was so foggy that I just went along with everything he told me to do, but now that I’ve had some sleep, I’m not sure that’s what I want. Yes, his lawyer was effective at getting a guilty person off, but somehow I doubt he’ll put forth the same effort for me.
I even had my doubts about Tor sticking to the story he cooked up so quickly. I don’t even understand why he did it in the moment, but surely, given some time to think about it—and now that his family is involved—he’ll realize he can’t be seen defending me.
Then again, Torrance Walters has always done exactly what he wanted to do, no matter what anyone else thought about it.
I’m not sure that extends to his family, though. I don’t know their dynamic.
“Thanks,” Tor murmurs, but he’s glancing past my mom to me. “You want to go for a ride? We need to talk.”
“What’s this about?” Mom asks, glancing between us. At least she sounds guarded, perhaps realizing there’s a chance I would be looked at in the murder of Timothy Walters—especially by his family.
“It’s fine,” I say quickly, so he doesn’t have to answer.
Not that he would struggle with it, if last night was any indication.
I step forward, approaching him, then veer over to the passenger side of the car.
“Don’t worry, I won’t keep her for too long.” Tor nods at my mom respectfully, then opens the door and slides into the driver’s seat.
CHAPTER 5
CASSIE
A strange sense of relief comes over me when I pull the car door closed, shutting out the rest of my world and moving into Tor’s space. It feels calmer here, which is crazy. Everything happened so fast last night that he probably didn’t have a chance to process it, but by now, surely, he’s felt the reality that his twin brother is dead.
And other people may suspect it, but he knows I’m responsible.
He doesn’t say anything right away. He checks the rearview mirror before backing out of my driveway, then starts down the road at a nice, responsible speed.
My mom’s still watching, after all.
Absently, my gaze drifts to his hand on the steering wheel. He’s a confident driver, relaxed. Despite being in the car with a murderer—and his brother being killed last night—he seems remarkably unbothered.
I clear my throat, and only then does he glance my way.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks me.
A frown swiftly creases my brow. “Me? I’m fine. How are you?”
“I’m not the one being looked at for murder,” he points out, his lips tilting up slightly.
“No.” I pause, absolutely hating having to address this in an empathetic capacity. “But you are the one who lost a brother last night. Your twin brother. And then you helped the assailant get away with it, so… that’s a bit weird. I thought after getting some sleep, you might have some feelings about it.”
Shrugging, he says, “Of course I have feelings, but they don’t change anything that happened, do they? So, what’s the point?”
“I don’t know. Taking care of your mental health?”
“My mental health is just fine.”
I’m pretty sure some would disagree with him after last night.
I stare at him, deciding just to ask the question that hasn’t left my mind. “Why did you help me?”
His amusement dissipates, and his jaw tightens. “You didn’t deserve what would have happened to you if I hadn’t.”