Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
She shrugged. “No clue,” she told me. “That dancer girl got dragged out of here by two guys. There was a lot of blood, and I think some drugs involved. I’m not really sure what happened to her though. The other girl just randomly packed her stuff, and then the school sent someone to do clean up.”
Blood.
Drugs.
Two guys.
Vincent knew where she was.
And he was going to fucking tell me.
* * *
✶ ✶ ✶
* * *
Meghan
* * *
I blankly stared at the ceiling above me. I had been locked in the fucking building for three days by now, and I hadn’t been let out of the room I had been stuck in.
Apparently, it wasn’t safe for me. And it was even less safe for those I could come into contact with.
With a tired sigh, I turned my head to face the small window near the ceiling. The sky was beginning to set, letting me know that my third day there was coming to an end to bring forth the next.
I glared at the uneaten tray of food as if it would miraculously make it disappear. They had been trying to get me to eat since I had gotten there, but I never touched the food. I didn’t have an appetite. I couldn’t stomach food if I tried.
Mama, why?
I whimpered as the small, tiny voice sparked in my head. I pulled the covers over my head as if it would make it go away.
Why didn’t you love me enough?
I wailed. “I’m sorry,” I cried. “I love you; I swear I do.”
Daddy loved me. He wanted me. You destroyed us both.
“I’m sorry!” I screamed, painful sobs wracking my chest. “I’m sorry,” I cried.
My door burst open, and I barely registered the doctor injecting me with something as I lost myself in my torment.
* * *
✶ ✶ ✶
* * *
I stared down at the coffee in my hands. Dr. Gresham was sitting across from me, a kind, yet stern look on his face. “Meghan, you’re so young,” he said softly. “You have such a bright future ahead of you. You only had a few months before you graduated college. What happened?”
“He happened,” I choked out, hot tears sliding down my cheeks. Dr. Gresham rested his hand over my wrist. “I miss him,” I cried.
“Who?” Dr. Gresham asked quietly.
I only shook my head. I couldn’t say his name. Saying his name made all of the pain and heart ache real, and I couldn’t deal with it. Not yet.
Dr. Gresham nodded in understanding. “Was he a good man?”
I nodded. “The best for me,” I admitted. I sniffled. “He could be overbearing and extremely possessive and protective, but it felt nice.” A tear slipped down my cheek. I let it run down my cheek and fall into the coffee I would never drink before I spoke again. “He loved me. He made me feel beautiful. He never made me feel different for being raped and scarred.”
“He sounds like a good one.”
I smiled weakly as Julian’s image flashed in my mind. His crooked smile was aimed at me, and his eyes were soft and filled with love and adoration for me and the baby.
A broken sob ripped from my chest. “He was the best,” I repeated. I looked up at Dr. Gresham, seeing his kind, older eyes on me. “He called me a goddess.”
More tears fell down my cheeks. I pressed the heel of my hand to the center of my chest, trying to relieve the ache there. My chest was squeezing my heart, and my ribs were squeezing my lungs, making it near impossible to breathe.
“Deep, slow breaths, Meghan,” Dr. Gresham instructed. “Come on; breathe.”
I drew in a deep, shuddering breath, more tears sliding down my cheeks. “He said I was strong, but I’m not,” I cried. I felt the furthest thing from strong. I’d spiraled just about as far as I could go.
“You are,” Dr. Gresham tried assuring me as he shook his head at me. “Even the strongest ones fall and break at some point. But just remember that you’ll always get up stronger.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Tell me what it feels like.”
“I feel like I’m in a dark hole, and the walls are slowly closing in on me,” I told him, my voice hoarse. “I don’t hear the baby anymore,” I choked on the word baby, “but I can still feel its presence. And when I close my eyes, I can feel how much they both hate me. It hurts so much. I never meant for any of this to happen.” More tears ran down my already raw cheeks. “I didn’t mean it,” I cried.
I just fucking needed them to know that, but it was too goddamn late.
“What didn’t you mean?” Dr. Gresham asked me as I set my coffee cup down.
I couldn’t bear to look at Dr. Gresham and see the disappointment that I knew would reside in his kind eyes. “I told him that I wished I never met him, that I wished I wasn’t pregnant, and that he was ruining my life,” I said, my breath shuddering out of me afterward. I squeezed my eyes shut as I pressed my fingertips to my eyelids. “I didn’t mean it,” I whimpered. “I was so sad and upset, and they received the brunt of it. I couldn’t dance. That’s all I could focus on.”