Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
My whole body shakes with each sob, and Tucker holds me tighter.
“It’s okay, it’s over,” he whispers into my hair. “He is gone. He won’t ever touch you again.” But that’s not what I’m crying about anymore, I’m scared for Tucker now.
“You killed him,” I say breathlessly. “You are going to go to prison for this. You’ll leave me…”
“I’m not going anywhere, and I’m definitely not leaving you,” Tucker tries to assure me, but I’m too scared. I shake my head and cry into his shirt some more.
“Maya, look at me,” Tucker urges while shoving gently at my shoulder.
I lift my head away from his chest and look up at him. His green eyes seem darker today, but his gaze still has the same calming effect on me. “I swear I won’t leave you.” I want to believe him so badly.
“Maya, Tucker is right, he won’t be charged with anything. I’ll handle the clean up,” Mr. Wilder says in a firm tone. “You guys should leave so I can handle things here.
“Just leave?” I ask, shocked. They can’t be serious.
“Yes, let’s get you out of this shithole and back home.” Tucker gets up from the floor, pulling me to my feet with him. He keeps one arm wrapped around me while walking me to the bed, where he sits me down on the corner of the mattress.
“Let’s get these back on you,” Tucker says in a surprisingly calm tone as he picks up my pants from the floor and helps get me dressed.
I slip my shoes on, looking anywhere besides the dead body on the floor. Paul ushers us out of the room. Tucker never lets go of me and carries most of my weight as we make it down the stairs and through the broken down front door.
“Maya,” Mr. Kingsley surprises me outside. I don’t know why I’m so shaken to see him here, too. “Are you all right?” he asks with the concern of a father.
I manage to nod, although I don’t feel fine.
Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep myself upright.
“Let’s get you in the car before you pass out,” Tucker announces, pulling me toward his parked car. He opens the passenger door for me and helps me inside. I slump back into the leather seat and let Tucker buckle me up.
He shuts the door behind me and jogs around the front of the hood. I can see him, but I still miss his presence until he opens the driver’s door and slides in behind the wheel.
Sensing that I need a minute, he doesn’t turn on the engine right away. He angles his body toward me, giving me his full attention.
“You’re going to be okay.” It’s a mixture of a statement and a question. One I don’t know how to answer. So instead, I change the subject.
“You came for me,” I whisper, my voice full of emotions I can’t process yet.
“Of course, I came as fast as I could. I’m sorry I was so late. I should have been here sooner. Before he ever laid a finger on you.”
I shake my head. “You came, and that’s all that matters.” And then it all starts to sink in. He came. Clark is dead. It’s over. He will never touch me or anyone else ever again. A huge wave of relief washes over me.
“I love you,” I blurt out without thinking, almost regretting it immediately. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said—”
“I love you too, Maya,” Tucker replies without a beat. “I’ve loved you for a long time. I think I loved you even when I hated you.” His admission both soothes and stings, reminding me of our broken past.
“What now?” I ask hesitantly.
“Now I’m going to take you home and get you cleaned up so you can wash this bastard off you.”
“I’d like that,” I say, even though I don’t think a million showers can make me feel less dirty right now.
29
TUCKER
“I’m telling you. This is what you need.” The thing is, I can’t be too pissed at Maya for digging her heels in and being stubborn about starting therapy. I don’t think I would like it if somebody not only told me I needed to go, but even chose a doctor for me. What else was I supposed to do? If I left it up to her, she would never take the steps to heal. “Remember. If you don’t like her or feel uncomfortable, you don’t have to go back. But give her a chance. Dr. Pierce is supposed to be a specialist in healing from trauma.”
Maya rubs her arms through the sleeves of her thin cardigan. “I just don’t know if I can go from holding everything inside too, like, sharing everything all at once.”
“And I’d bet you’re not the first person who ever felt that way. I’m sure she has lots of patients who have to take their time before they feel comfortable sharing.” I’m not sure what it’s going to take to convince her she is not broken beyond repair. Somewhere along the line, she got that idea, and it kills me because I know she deserves better. I hate to think I ever played a part in making her feel this way, even if I did have my reasons. They all seem kind of pointless now. I’m looking at her through fresh eyes, and I’ve seen for myself how bad her life got.