Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
My knees going weak, I have to lean against the doorframe to keep from falling over.
“And this will be your brother or sister’s bed,” Jude says, reaching out to touch the white railing of the crib.
I watch Jude stroke the wood tenderly and my ears fill with static.
The static is so loud I can barely hear him as he murmurs, “One day you’ll have your own room. When you’re older and can sleep without rails. But for now, I’ll feel better with you both here.”
How long?
How long has he been planning on getting me pregnant?
Just as long as he planned on moving us in with him?
Or did he somehow have that crib delivered and assembled today? While we were at the meeting?
I know money can make things happen… but we were only there for a couple of hours…
At least I think it was only a couple of hours.
So much shit has happened today, I don’t even know what time it is.
Is it even the same day?
Maybe I’ve lost time somewhere… maybe… maybe this is a fucking nightmare.
“Eden?”
Jude’s voice is so close I feel my brain snapping back into my skull like a rubber band stretched too far.
Blinking, I force my eyes to come into focus and tip my head up a little to see him peering down at me with concern.
“Are you alright?” he asks, a wrinkle appearing between his brows.
My lips… my mouth is too dry.
And my throat fucking hurts.
“No,” I rasp and grab onto the doorframe.
The world is spinning out of control around me, and the doorframe is the only thing keeping me in place.
Keeping me from flying off the fucking edge of the world and floating into space.
Screaming.
Jude shifts Abel so he can grab me.
Arm wrapping around my waist, he tries to pull me into him, but I don’t want to give up my hold on the doorframe.
Shaking my head, my nails dig into the wood, ruining the paint.
“Eden, look at me,” Jude says softly, “You’ve had a long day.”
When I still refuse to let go, he pleads, “Let me help you. Please.”
It sounds so unnatural, so unlike him, I shiver a little.
Help me?
Even after everything I’ve done, he still wants to help me?
Why?
Emotion swelling up inside me, I force my gaze to turn his way.
To find his face.
And it’s a mistake.
Because the second I let him pull me away from the doorframe, darkness takes me.
Falling like a black curtain in front of my eyes.
When I open my eyes again, the curtain is wrapped tight around me.
Suffocating me with darkness.
It’s so black, I can’t see shit.
Panic quickly begins to take hold. My heart fluttering and taking flight like a frightened bird.
Where the fuck am I?
Did I die? Did Jude really kill me instead of sparing me?
Am I in Hell?
Bolting upright, I try to slap and punch the curtain away.
And I swear I feel it punching me back.
Just like Kyle did.
I can hear him screaming at me as he hits me. Screaming that I’m worthless. That I’m a stupid fucking dirty whore.
I’m a shitty mother who doesn’t deserve her child.
“No! Fuck you! Let me go!” I hoarsely shout.
“Eden?” Jude says with alarm.
Hearing his voice should be frightening.
But it’s the exact opposite.
“Help me, Jude,” I beg as I try to fight off the shadow. “Please!”
A light flickers on, illuminating the world with too much brightness.
I flinch and squeeze my eyes shut, blinded in a new way.
“It’s okay, angel. I’m right here,” Jude says, then I feel a pair of strong arms wrapping around me from behind.
At first, I tense. My body coiled tight. Unsure if I should try to fight him or make a fucking run for it.
But when he murmurs, “You’re safe, I promise,” and kisses the top of my head, I suddenly collapse in his hold.
All the strength going out of me.
Rubbing his big hands up and down my arms like he’s trying to warm me, Jude gently rocks me back and forth.
Repeating, “You’re safe. You’re safe, angel.”
When my heart finally calms down a bit, no longer beating fast enough to cause a heart attack, I open my eyes and let them adjust to the light.
But I don’t recognize anything around me.
The walls are soft gray, almost silver, and perfectly smooth. There’s not a scratch, chip, or scuff mark to be seen. The art displayed, paintings using broad strokes to mimic the human form, look expensive and professionally done.
I’m sitting on a bed covered in a thick, fluffy white comforter.
A bed that’s not mine.
My throat throbbing and burning from my shouts, I croak, “Where am I?”
“In our bedroom,” Jude answers and rocks me some more.
Reminding of what I do with—
“Abel,” I gasp and stiffen. “Where is he?”
Jude’s arms squeeze around me to keep me trapped. “I put him to bed an hour ago.”
My mind goes wild, picturing him taking care of Abel.