Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
"What the fuck happened to your face?" she asks Nox as we pass, but he doesn't bother with an answer, just pulls me along, down the hallway and away from prying eyes. She calls out after us, but we both ignore her. "You need stitches or that's going to leave a nasty scar!"
The moment the door is closed, he rips my clothes off my body and admires me with a smirk on his handsome face.
"You need to clean your face," I whisper, and he nods.
"There's a first-aid kit in the bathroom. Get it, you'll clean me up."
I nearly trip over myself on the way to the bathroom. My heart is fucking pounding. I'm still trying to come to terms with everything that's happened. I can't believe I'm right back where I started. I tried so hard to run away from him, but I should've known I'd never be able to escape Nox.
I dig in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom but don't find anything. I check the storage closet next, but there's nothing there either. I exit the room to find Nox gone. I sit on the bed with an exasperated sigh.
There's something behind the pillows.
I lift one of them and furrow my brows when I see the offending piece of fabric. It's a gray hoodie, and it's stained with blood. The Columbia college logo is on it.
I've seen this hoodie.
I know this hoodie.
Dread settles in my stomach just as I hear Nox's keys turning in the lock.
"Got one from the reception," he grunts. "Realized we didn't have one here, and..."
His eyes find mine and he sees what I'm holding. The moment stretches into for ever. I can't believe this is happening. With a sickening crunch, I've landed back in reality.
And life will never be the same again.
Chapter 31
Nox
"What the fuck is this?"
My mind is fucking racing. My eyes are glued to what she's holding. I'm doing damage control in my mind already, but my mouth won't open and say the words. I just need to explain. I can explain. I can get out of this.
"Is this my brother's?" Dove tosses the blood-stained hoodie at me. "Answer me! Is this Robin's?"
"Dove, I..." I raise my hands in the air defensively. How the fuck do I start? What the fuck do I say? I'm a terrible fucking liar. The truth is written all over my goddamn face. "I can explain."
"Explain, then," she hisses, glaring at me. If looks could kill, hers would've incinerated me. "Explain what you're doing with the hoodie my brother was last seen in, and explain why it's bloody!"
I can't answer her. I try to force myself, but the truth won't come out. I just stand there as she comes at me with her fists. She hammers them into my chest, punching, hissing my name, telling me I'm a monster.
"Explain!" she screams. "Explain it, right the fuck now! There has to be an explanation, right Nox? There must be a reason. You didn't do it. You didn't!"
"I'm sorry, Dove," I mutter.
"Sorry for what?" she growls. "Sorry for what, you fucking monster? Are you such a fucked up killer that you kept this... as some sick memento? Or as a reminder of what you are?"
I don't know why I kept it, so I don't answer her. She takes a step back and looks at me as if this is the first time she's seeing me. Seeing the monster my father saw when he beat me, when he put the scars on my back. Dove shakes her head, runs her fingers through that dark mane of hair, whispering, muttering something I don't quite understand.
"He's gone," she says. "He's gone. Robin's gone. You killed him. You took him away from me. You did this. You did this. You. Fucking. Did. This!"
I can't answer her. We both know it's true now. The hoodie is in my hands and she snatches it away from me, holding it up to her nose, inhaling the scent. When she pulls her hand back, her face is smeared with blood.
"You don't deserve it. You don't deserve a memory of him. You don't deserve to say his fucking name."
"Dove, I'm fucking sorry," I get out. "I thought I had to do it, I –"
"Don't give me your bullshit fucking reasons!" She's a banshee, one moment crying into the hoodie, the next discarding it to claw at me. I don't stop her. I feel like I have no right. "I don't want to know! I don't want you to tell me it's my fucking fault, my fault he's gone, because of you! Your sick, twisted fucking obsession with me made you do this! It's my fault! My fault he's gone, my fault, my fucking fault..."
She slumps to the floor. She's a mess, her makeup smudged, her hair ruffled, her eyes wild. My little bird is so fucking beautiful.