Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
My eyes burn, and I know he can see it. I blink, dropping my gaze, and about to fucking choke. They don’t know me. Not really. He wouldn’t say all this if he knew.
“I came back to life when I met you,” he whispers only for me to hear.
I shake my head. Please stop.
“I’m not your father,” he states, “but I think of you as my son.”
My chest shakes, and I almost can’t hold it in. They’re not my family, I tell myself. They’re not…
As he finishes, I hear the smile in his voice. “And I hope it’s not too long before you come home again.”
He pulls me into a hug, and I can’t help but wrap him in my arms and hold tight. One last time.
A little clapping goes off around the pool, and Madoc finally pulls back, everyone looking to me now.
I have to say something. I know this is where I belong, and I can’t tell myself I don’t have a home here because this family’s track record disproves that. Jared’s mom took in Jax when he was a teenager. Jax and his wife, in turn, took in their son’s girlfriend and her siblings. This family makes room for everyone.
But I can’t be here. If I don’t leave, Madoc could be implicated in things I did. I have to go.
I clear my throat. “I…” I laugh. “I actually asked for the hot dogs because I thought you liked them,” I announce. “I mean, you’d eat them three times a week, so…”
Everyone breaks into laughter, Madoc shaking his head at me.
There should be more to say to the man who gave me so much. To his wife, who was a big sister and a second mother, a mentor, and a friend.
To the people who gave me a community and a family that would show up for me at a moment’s notice. A moment’s notice.
I meet Quinn’s eyes. “I’ll miss you all,” I tell them.
Quinn’s brow pinches together, and I see the tears she’s trying to hold back, feeling a sob in my throat. But then she drops her eyes, staring at her drink, and I wait, but she doesn’t look at me again.
I don’t have anything else to say.
The patio is silent, and I’m a piece of shit, but that’s it. It’s over.
Madoc’s smile falls a little, but he recovers quickly, coming in for one more embrace.
I ignore the eyes of everyone waiting for more. They don’t understand, because they can’t. It is what it is.
Except Farrow Kelly. I catch him as he stands there like a stone, staring at me and knowing he’s probably the only one here who knows why it’s best that I leave.
Others approach me—Fallon, Juliet, Tate, Jax, and Jared—some of them hugging me one last time, and others shaking my hand. I thank them for coming.
When I finally lift my head, Quinn is gone.
My heart skips a beat, subtly scanning the pool deck and lawn. She wouldn’t leave…
“I’ll be back,” I tell Madoc.
I head around the house again, to the lower-level patio, but she’s not there. Slipping into the basement, I bolt up the steps, enter the kitchen, and head for the front door. As soon as I open it, I see her walking across the driveway, pulling on a white button-up over her bikini top.
“Quinn?” I call.
What the hell? She walks past cars like she’s leaving.
She turns, the shirt still open.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Home.” She won’t look at me. “It’s just a short walk.”
Turning, she continues for the end of the driveway and the quiet neighborhood road beyond.
I bolt. “Wait.”
She stops, and I see her exhale before she spins around.
I step toward her, pulling the cap out of my back pocket again.
I start to offer it to her, but she laughs. Bitterly. “I don’t want it.”
Looking at me now, her eyes are hooded, her fists clenched.
And I see the moment the curtain in her heart closes. No flexed jaw, no softness in her eyes, no anger, no trembling chin…
Just finality.
“You asked if I was mad at you,” she says.
I did? Oh, yeah. Days ago. In her shop.
“Yes,” she replies. “I am mad at you.”
I swallow through the pain in my throat. I don’t want to hear this.
She steps closer. “After a while, I started to understand that you didn’t just leave all those years ago.” She stares at me point-blank. “You ran away.”
I breathe in and out through my nose slowly, hardening my stance.
“I remembered little things that seemed like nothing at the time,” she tells me. “How you got quieter in the months before. How you would stand in the corners of rooms with your hands in your pockets as if you couldn’t wait to get away from us.”
A headache spreads up the right side of my skull, and I twist my neck, cracking it.