Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“We can wait,” she says. “If you don’t mind.”
“I’m not exactly a hundred percent. I don’t think taking the chance right now is very smart,” I say, instead of assuring her that waiting is no problem.
I want to get home as much as she does, I’m sure.
“Will you stay with me?” I can see the questions in her eyes, and I know she isn’t asking about being in close proximity until we cross. She’s asking if I’ll literally stay in this room.
It has to take a lot from her, but it tells me that she sees me as some form of protection rather than just being someone capable of hurting her again.
“Is that what you want?” I ask, needing to make sure.
“I don’t want to be alone,” she answers. It’s not exactly the assurance I was looking for, but I know it’s going to be the best I’m going to get out of her right now.
“I’m not sleeping on the fucking ground outside anymore,” I tell her as I inch toward the full-sized bed closest to the door. I empty my pockets on the bedside table, needing sleep more than I have the ability to worry about her taking the cash and disappearing. Honestly, if she made that choice, it would make things ten times easier. Not having to worry about her safe crossing means I could be home within a couple of hours of waking up.
She doesn’t open her mouth to argue when I flop face-first on the bed, the injuries on my side screaming out in pain.
A mustiness that threatens to make my stomach turn fills my nose, but the exhaustion I’m feeling wins out against getting back off the bed. It’s better than the accommodation that Cortez and his men provided. Which is saying a lot because this place is an utter shithole. It’s also a little off the beaten path, filled by people who are too concerned with their own problems to worry about what other people are doing.
I turn my head at the sound of the bed springs on the other bed. Ayla situates herself with her back to the headboard, her eyes locked on me. She could very easily kill me in my sleep, but it doesn’t stop my eyes from closing and sleep taking over.
Death could possibly be easier to deal with than the shit I’ve already experienced in life. As I drift to sleep, I still haven’t decided which is a better option—living or dying…
Chapter 25
Ayla
I haven’t slept well in months. Some days, I would pray for the prick of a needle, so tired that I didn’t give a shit what happened to me while I was knocked out because I knew I was getting the rest my body needed.
Sitting on the bed with Nash only a handful of feet away doesn’t offer any more comfort than if he were still on the other side of the door. If anything, it’s worse. His low breathing, the sound telling me he doesn’t fear me at all, fills the room.
It’s annoying in that way that a lover’s snores take over the night when they should’ve gotten dressed after the deed was done. I pick at one of the scars on my forearm, living in the bite of pain that is somehow connected to the underside of my ribcage. How the echo of it spreads out across my body, I’ll never understand, but it’s always been like that. I scratch at the back of my upper arm, feeling it just below my belly button. This phenomenon was never discussed in nursing school, and I always felt like I was the only one to experience it, so I never asked. I didn’t want to be seen as the weirdo, despite my inability to ever really make friends.
I imagine it’s why Alani believed me so easily when I explained on that first phone call that I just gave up my entire life in Plano and joined a medical group traveling to Guam. I had no one but her to walk away from. No one left behind asking questions or searching for me. I have no one to blame but myself for my lack of connections. I worked my shift and worried about my sister. I didn’t have time for much else. I never ached for any other connections, and that’s on me and my codependence on my sister. I think Alani was more than a little happy to go to college. I think she was beginning to feel smothered by me despite the long hours I worked. I thought I needed to protect her from drunk drivers, but apparently, there were all sorts of evils I never considered.
I lose count of how many times my stomach grumbles as he sleeps. I haven’t left the room, but I’ve considered a myriad of consequences if I take a couple dollars from the wad of cash on the bedside table. I’d only go as far as the vending machine on the ground level right under our room, but I know the dangers in that.