Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Mine might’ve been soft, at least a tiny part of it. A much smaller part than Colby’s. The soft parts of my heart belonged to him. Violet. Willow. There wasn’t any more to go around, certainly wasn’t more to feel guilt over ending the life of a murderer.
“It wasn’t a human being,” I disagreed. “He wasn’t. He forfeited the right to be called that the second he plunged the knife into the flesh of an innocent woman.” Of their own volition, my hands went to the scars on my stomach, though they weren’t scars now. They were vibrant feathers in my phoenix.
I looked into Colby’s eyes, seeing love, pain, concern, anger, fear. “I’ve got a little monster in me, I know that now. He … created that.”
I put my finger to Colby’s lips when he opened his mouth to argue.
“Before you talk about how I’m perfect and not at all evil, that little monster inside of me was what made me survive. What made it so I’m still here, me … more or less.”
“More,” Colby barked. “Most definitely fuckin’ more.”
I bit back my smile. “It’s fucked-up. Like really fucked-up. But I think killing him … healed me in a way. It’s not going to give me nightmares. I’ve had enough of those. Lived enough of those.”
It was the truth. It wasn’t pretty, but Colby could handle the ugly truth. I trusted him to hear it and not think differently about me. I trusted him.
“You never asked what I did with Granger,” Colby murmured after contemplating my words.
Ah, there it was. I’d been waiting for him to bring it up. I wondered if it had been driving him crazy, me not mentioning Granger, me seemingly not caring about his fate. Apparently, this was a night of confessions.
“I didn’t need to,” I brushed a lock of his hair from his face. “I can guess what probably happened. The end result being him in a grave that no one visits.”
Colby didn’t say anything, so I took that as confirmation of my guess.
I cupped his jaw. “I don’t need to know what you did to him. I don’t need to know anything other than that he’s worm food, and I’m here, in bed with my man, a whole life ahead of me.”
Colby flipped us so I was on my back. “I love you so fucking much, Sariah.”
My mouth went dry, and my heart stuttered.
Okay, I lied when I said I didn’t need to hear that. I totally did.
“I know,” I whispered, trying to play it cool.
“I’m gonna make sure we have the greatest fuckin’ life,” he promised.
I smiled. “I know.”
EPILOGUE
SIX MONTHS LATER
COLBY
My guts churned as my boots hit the pavement. I hadn’t been able to choke down a bite of food today.
Fuck, the only taste I needed in my mouth was my woman’s pussy. I got that. Got to feel at home inside of her, feel safe, feel fucking centered.
My woman gave me life. Every day I woke up with her. She gave me strength. Every moment I looked into her eyes, watched her smile, watched her laugh.
She was the reason I was here, standing in front of the place I’d vowed never to come back to. The house where my sister had taken her last breaths. Where her blood and brains had stained the walls.
My parents hadn’t moved. They’d replaced the carpet, painted the walls. But they hadn’t left the place where Alyssa died.
First, I thought it was because they were trying to gloss over it all, trying to fix it, forget her, act as if nothing had happened.
Now, with the privilege of hindsight, I considered another reason. They didn’t want to leave the house where my sister had taken her first steps, spoken her first words. To them, maybe it wasn’t the house she died, it was the only place she’d lived.
Sariah’s small hand squeezed around mine. “We can still leave,” she offered.
I glanced at her.
Her hair was longer now. Darker too. It thick, wild from the ride. The dark locks covered her nipples when she was naked.
She’d painted her full lips red, had dark eyeliner on to highlight her burnt copper eyes. Her face was fuller now, healthier. There was a glow about her, a fire that burned brighter every day.
I wrestled my gaze from my woman to the house I grew up in. It hurt to look at it. To remind myself of the person I used to be. My parents had wanted me to be a doctor, a lawyer, and I was coming back to them wearing a patch and a stain of a life they’d never understand.
The chances of them slamming the door in my face were high.
And fuck if that didn’t scare the shit about me.
I looked back at my woman.
The one who came out of the ashes stronger than ever, who amazed me every fucking day.