Series: Webs We Weave Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 635(@200wpm)___ 508(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
We weren’t given proper life skills to have normal lives, and adding runaway to that makes it infinitely harder.
And I really want to live this one life here. Not a million lives out there. Setting down roots has been my favorite part of this whole experiment.
“Then this doesn’t work. And you two need to pull the cord because as soon as they know they’ve lost their pawns, they will do everything to reel you back in.”
“We’re not their pawns.” I shake my head.
I may have slight doubts in them—mainly in Everett—but there’s still love between my mom and me. I know that.
Hailey intakes a big breath. “It’s going to work.” Her voice is strangely high-pitched. “I’m going to explain the situation when they get here. Phoebe and I are done. They’ll understand. They have to understand.”
“This is a delusion,” Rocky says in an intense whisper. His eyes are pleading with us to just wake up. I want to stay in this dream just a little longer.
One more day.
One more minute.
One more second.
It’s a feeling I’ve had before. The grip-on-tight, not-wanting-to-leave feeling—because most good things in my life have been painfully short-lived.
“They will come here,” Rocky says slowly, “and they will go straight for the Waterfords, for Jake. Am I wrong, Hails?”
Hailey rotates on her heels, distraught. Water laps against the sand near our feet, and I feel the rush of the cold against my ankles.
I frown at Rocky. “When have you cared about Jake?”
“He’s your boyfriend, right?” He waits for me, maybe, to say no.
“Fake,” I correct.
“Fake boyfriend.” His voice is rough. “I care by association to you.”
He cares about me. It’s a truth, but one that’s more said in action, less in words.
It’s hard to look at him. Do I really want to leave Victoria, just to do another job where I’m seducing more men and Rocky has to watch? I’m not sure my heart can handle that. But I’m not sure my heart ever has been able to truly handle it.
More than myself, I am doing this for Hailey. Our pact. It’s her dream that I’ve adopted as my own.
Rocky must see that in my eyes because he spins to his sister and says, “I know you want your Mystic Pizza life. And I wish, from the bottom of my soul, I could give that to you. But I can’t. You can’t have that life without the approval of our puppeteers. They’re not ever going to give it to you, Hails.”
Her face breaks. “Rocky—”
“It’s a town. A silly fucking town. Please, you can’t be this attached—”
“I’m not doing it for me!” Hailey yells with full-blown tears. She’s dropped her boots, her hands pressed to her chest. “This isn’t about me, okay?! I love my job. I love what we do. You think it was easy for me to stop?” Tears cloud her vision.
I’m pummeled backward, my pulse lodged in my throat.
She points out at the ocean. “I’ve wanted to go back about ten hundred times.”
My body stills.
I blink past a glassy film. “What?” I whisper, not understanding.
Rocky looks just as stunned, his hand clamped strongly over his mouth.
Hailey points at the sand, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You two don’t have a patent on protecting people. Other people can protect you, you know that? Other people can try.” Her chin quakes. “And maybe I haven’t done a great job of it—maybe it won’t last like I’ve wanted it to, but I’ve tried.” She pinches her eyes, choking on a sob.
I fight between the urge to comfort her and to prod for a clearer answer.
She wipes at the creases of her eyes, mascara already smudged.
“Hailey,” I say, choked. “I don’t understand . . .”
Her watery, splintered gaze hits mine. “Do you really think I could’ve let you go back after what happened in Carlsbad?”
Oh my God.
Rocky’s hand that’s clamped on his mouth suddenly combs through his hair, and when he looks at me, my world is overturned. Swallowed whole by his sheer tidal wave of concern.
I struggle to speak, and I just focus on Hailey. “I was doing this for you,” I whisper, my voice broken.
“And I’ve always been doing this for you. You’re my best friend.” She rubs at her runny nose. “I love you, Phebs, and you’ve protected me my entire life. It was my turn to protect you.”
Inertia. Why did I think she invoked the word for herself? Why did I never consider she could’ve had other reasons to quit conning—when the first time that I surfaced our pact, it’d been for Hailey? And all along, when she said the word in Carlsbad, it’d been for me.
Tears have built in my eyes, my throat swollen closed. I don’t know what to say, so I just come forward and put my arms around her. She hugs tighter, and my wet tears fall into her blonde hair.