Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Then a moment later the lamp flicks on. She looks over to me, and I see her expression change through my blurred vision as she takes in the pathetic sight of me sobbing. She stands without a word and walks over to the bed, then she pulls the covers back and climbs in, too. She lies face to face with me, and her hand goes over Briella’s. Then they just hang onto me.
For a minute, god, for a blissful minute, I want this to be all there is to my life. Just these two women holding me together, not having to worry about a single other thing in this world but the fact that they’ve got my back, and they’re not going to let anything bad happen to me.
I want it to be how it goes.
God, I want it so bad.
But my soul is bitter, and confused, and so scarily broken.
I shake my head through my tears and push out of their grips, frantically sliding my body out of the bed so I don’t have to feel the intense emotions I’m feeling right now. I get to my feet, my hands shaking, and I look at the two women who slowly sit up and stare at me. I still have tears running down my face. My mind is a swimming mess that I can’t make sense of.
“It’s okay, Avi,” Briella says carefully, her hair messed up from sleep, her eyes tired. “We want to help you. We’re here to help you.”
I can’t breathe.
No.
“I don’t need help,” I say, my voice scratchy.
“You do, though. You do, and it’s okay to let us be the people who give that to you. We’re your family, your friends, we want to get you through this. We love you.”
Those words hit me like a slap to the face and I turn, running from the room, desperate to make these feelings stop. I don’t want to second guess myself. I don’t want to hope that maybe she’s right and they’re the answer to all my problems. I don’t want to believe their love might actually be what fixes me. I don’t want to trust them again, only to have my world ripped out from beneath me.
As I run, the memories of my life before this swim in my mind. Memories I can’t escape from no matter how hard I try. Memories that remind me why I am the way I am. Memories that put me back into the cold, bitter place I came here in.
“Please, stop,” I plead, sitting in the corner, hands in front of my face.
That won’t stop him, but it’s worth a shot.
It’s the only thing I have to protect myself right now, my hands.
Everything else is bruised and battered.
He walks toward me, expressionless. His body is large, and muscled, and he’s strong. So much stronger than me. He rarely speaks, but when he does his words are poison. They’re terrifying spits that burn my very soul. Sometimes, I wish he would speak so I know who he is, and why he has me, and how I got here.
I don’t know why I’m here, except to know that Cohen did it.
Cohen.
My best friend.
The man I was falling in love with.
This is his fault.
The man kneels down and curls his hands around my wrists, pulling them down so I can no longer put them up in front of me. Like they were ever going to stop him anyway.
“Please,” I plead again. “I want to go home.”
“This is your home now.”
His voice is rough and gravelly.
He pins my arms to my side and then jerks them around to my back where he pulls a set of handcuffs from his coat pocket and snaps them together. I don’t squirm, or fight, he made sure I knew what would happen to me if I did any of those things. He showed me. The cuts, bruises, and injuries on my body show me what happens if I do that.
When my hands are cuffed, he reaches forward, his fingers slowly going down to my buttons where he begins to undo them, exposing me to him. I clench my eyes shut, my whole body trembling, tears running down my cheeks. Please, someone, make this stop. I’ll do anything, anything, but just make it stop.
His hand curls around my breast, and there he squeezes.
“No,” I cry out. “No, please. Please don’t.”
“Aviana!”
The harsh voice snaps me from the horrid memory that was taking over my body. I forgot I was running, crying, going where? I don’t know. I stop, panting, and turn to see Cohen walking toward me wearing only a pair of pajama shorts. His muscled, ripped body shines underneath the streetlights, making him look like he’s here to rescue me and make all my problems just disappear with one touch.
My heart twists with the kind of agony I simply can’t process right now.