Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
He and I locked eyes. I remember that part too. That’s how I remember what color they were. And then he headed in my direction and took the empty seat right next to me.
It was the only empty seat at the bar, to be fair. So it didn’t immediately mean anything. Still, my heart was racing like crazy and when he turned on the stool to get his wallet out of his pocket, and his knee accidentally bumped into mine, I felt like I was back in junior high.
He said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
And that’s as far as he got. His eyes went wide. Then he squinted them down into slits. “Lowyn?”
I was confused at first. I was still not thinking this man was Collin Creed. So I said, “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
He pointed to himself. “Collin Creed. Dated you for three years in high school.”
My mouth. Dropped. Open. I think I even gasped. In fact, I was taking a swig of my beer in that moment and I actually choked on it. Which made Collin start pattin’ me on the back like a fuckin’ baby.
When I finally calmed down, he squinted at me again. “You really don’t remember me?”
Remember him? That was not my problem. The problem was the boy who killed a man right in front of my eyes when I was sixteen—the very one who walked out on me after we made all those plans—was back. And I was just supposed to… what? Take it all in stride?
Typically, as Bryn pointed out when I was telling her this story, this is my style. I take everything in stride. Except Collin Creed walking back into my life after almost a dozen years and sitting down at the bar stool next to me on the very night when I was out looking for a good time and had plans to get drunk.
I have never been much of a numbers girl—exhibit A, I had no idea I was paying for a landline phone all these years, maybe it’s time to hire an accountant?—but what are the odds that he would show up in that bar, on that night?
So then I just started ranting and raving about fate. And the longer I talked, the more I drank.
I am pleased to report that I was a happy drunk until I woke up this morning and became a thoroughly humiliated, nearly-sober, respectable member of society once again.
Normally I do not do uptight. But there I was, caught in that maze, being a total bitch.
You can’t eat here? God, what a childish remark.
And what did he do? What did Collin Creed do? Call me up on a phone that has been hanging on my kitchen wall for almost eight years and never once rang so he could invite me over to pick through his treasures.
What is a girl to make of that?
Is he coming on to me?
Do I want him to come on to me?
I mean… the guy was the love of my life. Until that night stole everything from us. In a matter of moments my perfect future with this man was shattered into bits and pieces. He was never the same after that.
I get why he shot the guy. He was scary. He looked homeless, or maybe he was on drugs. There was a lot about that intruder that was off even before you added in the fact that he was in the middle of kidnapping a little girl right from her bed.
And I get that Collin Creed, even back then, was kind of imposing and big. An athlete, tall and muscular. But he had just turned eighteen. He was still a kid, really. I looked at him after it was over. There was blood splattered everywhere. All over Olive—she was a horror show. Some of it even got as far as Collin. Little dots on his face. But when I looked at him, I saw someone else. Someone I had never met.
His eyes were raging wild, his breath coming out hard and fast. Olive was screaming. Just screaming her head off. And then someone was knocking on the door. Pounding, really.
It was the next-door neighbor asking if everything was OK. Jim Rush. That’s who lived there back then.
We didn’t plan anything. There wasn’t time. Collin looked at me, panicked, then he looked at Olive and let out a breath. “Are you OK?” That’s what he asked her. She had stopped screaming when the door pounding started.
We didn’t plan the story. We didn’t. Jim Rush broke through the locked door. Just kicked it open and came barreling through. He stopped and just stared at the body. Then each of us. We were all standing exactly where it happened. The dead man was crumpled around Olive’s feet. Collin still had the rifle pointed where the man used to be. I was still hiding behind him with my hand to my mouth in shock.