Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Funny thing about saying hello.
Very rarely does anyone think about it changing their lives.
Had I never said hello to that gas station attendant, he probably wouldn’t have had to scrub away animal blood off his bathroom door.
Had I never said hello to that waitress she’d probably still be alive, not mutilated with a tail shaped piece missing from her ass as a clear sign he knows I had contact with her.
Had I never said hello to Nolan, detectives probably wouldn’t be trying to get access to his records to prove he committed a crime.
And had I never said hello to the man sprawled out on the living room floor over there, he probably wouldn’t have to live with murder on his conscience.
Tears collect in my throat creating a lump too massive to choke down and too dense to ignore.
What the fuck am I still doing here?
Why the fuck am I being so goddamn selfish?
These men don’t deserve this.
Their lives shouldn’t have to be at risk because I was that fucking desperate for a few moments of solace.
Anxious to live a life filled with laughter.
And freedom.
And lov…
My lips press tightly together in a refusal to even think that word.
Nope.
Not happening.
Because it’s not possible.
Because it’s not practical.
Because…it’s not something I can process being true.
Continuing to write the title the length of my arm is suddenly interrupted by low grumbles from the man I’m supposed to be sleeping on the floor beside. Kipp gently pats the empty space once and then twice and then shoots up in unmistakable panic on the third, “Bunny!”
“I’m okay,” I force myself to croak out the lie. “Go back to sleep, Kid.”
He gives his messy, dark locks – the same dark locks I’ve come to love making messy – a languorous ruffle. “Need me to get up too?”
There’s no ignoring the lung piercing pain the tone as much as the question itself ignites.
Need.
Want.
How the fuck did the two become so…interchangeable…so fucking quickly with this pair?
Unable to speak without revealing what’s unraveling inside my mind, I simply shake my head on a soft smile.
Kipp initially hesitates; however, one large yawn catching him off guard convinces him to lie back down on his stomach. Rearrange his head so he’s facing me. So that he can hear every move I make. Come running if I need him.
Want him.
“I’m right here if you do, baby,” The Kid practically whispers out seconds before he begins to snore again.
To be honest, I cannot be more grateful that he’s had no trouble passing out.
Taking someone’s life, even when doing it out of self-defense – which is what he told the authorities who were first on the scene while I hid in the backseat of the car – is still the type of shit that can give a person nightmares.
Eat at their spirit.
Their soul if they’re less fortunate.
And unlike my ex – who I know for a fact has no soul – Kipp’s a great guy.
With a bright future and a big heart.
And I hate myself for letting those things get fractured because of me.
Because I couldn’t walk away from his sweet smile.
Adorable demeanor.
Because I couldn’t walk away from Mutt’s crooked grin.
Hardened nature.
And now because I couldn’t fucking walk away from them, I have no choice but to run.
Run and keep running and never look back in hopes that by me doing so, they get to live.
Actually. Live.
We’re not just talking about physically but emotionally too.
Without me around, they can find another woman that enhances their lives versus ruins them.
One less flighty.
Less toxic.
Ugh.
First, I’m the subject of a Beatles song, now Britney?
Thanks, Brain.
Are you gonna play soundtracks during this whole exit stage left or…?
Finally, my hand stops doodling, allowing my arm to drop lifelessly to the side, numbness totally welcomed.
I have to go.
And I have to go now before I idiotically change my mind.
Again.
My first step out of the kitchen instantly startles Kipp awake to a sitting position once more, “Baby…?”
“B…B…” I force myself to stomp down the tears that are bubbling up and steady my voice enough to reply, “Bathroom.”
He grunts his approval and collapses back down, exhaustion winning the physical as much as the mental battle.
“I’m gonna take a shower and try to relax, okay?”
Another grumble of acceptance precedes the heavy breathing I’m strangely gonna miss.
Funny thing is both think it’s the other one that snores like a freight train when in reality it varies from night to night.
I’ve kinda come to find the noises they make comforting.
Oddly securing.
Heading for Nolan’s bathroom, I tuck the pen into the high bun I made the instant we got through the door, not wanting to lose one of the only things I know I can keep guilt free to remember The Kid by. Enroute to the ensuite, I crack the door to the main living area behind me, leaving just enough space to squeeze back through when the time comes, mentally note where my backpack is, the nearest clean clothes, and what items are an absolute must.