Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33157 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Maybe.
I waited until I was certain Bullet was out of the room before I carefully turned over on my side so my back was facing the door. I curled up in a ball, mashed my fist against my mouth, and fucking sobbed.
Somehow, I’d managed to doze off. When I woke, it was with the raging need to pee and the worst case of dry mouth known to man. I sat up on the edge of the bed with a groan as my shoulder protested the movement. I attempted to stand, but my knees just weren’t getting the message.
“Fuck,” I muttered as I moved gingerly. I had to stand there for several seconds to see if my knees were going to hold me. Thank God they did because I was not calling out for help. I was still woozy and the whole right side of my upper body hurt like a motherfucker, but I’d handle it on my own.
Pain made taking care of business difficult, but I managed. I brushed my teeth with the toothbrush Cecilia had left for me still in the pack. I washed my face and put my hair up in a ponytail. My shoulder screamed at me, but I bit back a whimper as I dressed. The pain helped clear the last lingering effects of the THC in my system. I knew I was going to need my wits about me if I was going home before Bullet told me I could go. And that’s exactly what I was going to do. I wasn’t staying here where I’d last seen Deacon. Christ! It was like I could still smell Deacon in the fucking room!
I glanced out the window. It was full night outside with very little moonlight so it had to be late night or early morning. I was hoping Bullet and Cecilia would be asleep. We were still in Bullet’s clinic because he had everything he needed readily available, so they were likely in one of the nearby rooms.
“He had a good reason for what he did, Apple.” Lemon sat in the corner of my room, hidden in the shadows since I hadn’t turned on anything other than the bathroom light.
“I’m sure he did.” I shoved my feet into my shoes which, thank goodness, were slip-ons. I wasn’t sure I could tie my own shoes at this point.
“You should talk to him.”
“He broke my heart, Lemon.” I turned away from my sister, reaching for my phone lying on the nightstand. “He left me. Not the other way around. I choose not to repeat that lesson.”
“I’ve never asked you for anything, Apple. We always work together, each anticipating the other’s needs. We always have. I’m asking you to listen to what he has to say.”
“Not this time, Lemon. This isn’t something you can help me with.”
“I can and I am. You and Deacon belong together. Why do you think I pushed you toward him when we were sixteen? He’s what you need.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not what he needs.” My voice was much louder than I intended. I knew my sister, though. Unless I took a strong stand, she’d shove me in the direction she thought I needed to go whether I wanted to go or not. “I deserve better.” No one but Lemon would hear the pain in my voice. My sister knew me, though. She knew how badly Deacon had hurt me even if I hadn’t told her exactly what happened from my point of view.
We were both silent for a long while. When Lemon didn’t say anything else, I shoved my phone in my back pocket and headed toward the door.
The clinic was dark which meant Bullet had left Lemon and Cecilia in charge of me while he got some sleep. No doubt Lemon had sent Cecilia to bed while I’d been out of it. Just meant there were fewer obstacles to me leaving.
The night air was warm and humid but not unpleasant. I took off at a brisk walk down the wide, dirt path. Rocket had given me a house near his and Lemon’s so I was close to my sister, but not so close I could hear the two of them getting freaky.
Took a few minutes, but I finally made it inside my house and locked the door behind me. hurried into my bedroom and practically dove inside the closet. When Deacon had broken things off with me, I’d used this as my safe space. A place I could decompress in private when things got too hard. There were blankets set up in the very back corner. My body screamed in protest, but I lay with my face down against the blankets and raged with all the fury, anger, and pain inside me. The blankets muffled most of the noise, but my throat was raw and aching.