Regretting You Read online J.L. Beck, Cassandra Hallman (Blackthorn Elite #4)

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: , Series: Blackthorn Elite Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
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“Dear lord,” the nurse says when she spots me. Doctors and nurses rush over and take Kennedy from me, and suddenly everything is moving in slow motion. Sinking to the floor, I place my hand against the cool ground. The tears rush in, and like a dam, I release every ounce of emotion I’ve been holding back.

Pain. Hate. Anger. Regret. Shame.

I lost Jillian, and now I’m losing her too.

I’m sorry I never told you I loved you…

26

Kennedy

Peace… I’m finally at peace. No pain or heartache, no disappointment or guilt. My body is numb, and so is my mind. Darkness surrounds me, wrapping me up in a blanket.

I feel as if my body is floating on a cloud, somewhere in between being awake and asleep. Alive but not quite living. I try to think of where I am and how I got here, but every time I form a thought, it slips away.

For a long time, there is nothing but silence. Only me and my friend, the darkness.

“Yes, she is stable now…” A voice suddenly breaks through to me. It seems far away as if I’m standing in one corner of a large room, and someone is in the other, across from me. Something draws me to that voice. I try to move, but my body and mind don’t seem to be connected at the moment.

“No, I won’t leave her side, I promise…” The same voice speaks again, a little bit louder now as if he took a few steps toward me. I strain to hear him again, hoping he comes a little bit closer still. His voice is a beacon of light in the dark.

“Okay, I’ll see you soon…” He stops talking after that, but the sound of heavy footsteps echo in my ears. I think he’s coming closer. When a large warm hand covers mine a moment later, that thought is confirmed.

Part of me wants to pull away from his touch, while some other part of me craves it. I’m confused by the notion until I hear him say his next words.

“Junebug, please, wake up. Please, be okay… I just need you to be okay.”

There is only one person in the world who calls me Junebug… Jackson.

Why is he here? I drag myself out of the heavy fog, fighting with all my might to open my eyes. Cinder blocks weigh them down, but somehow, I blink my lids open. Light blinds me, and I release a groan at the burning of my retinas.

Like paint seeping into paper and spreading in large splotches, the events that got me here unfold in my mind. The cutting. All the blood.

I flinch when Jackson squeezes my hand gently, reminding me that he’s here now.

Cut yourself a little deeper next time…

My entire body is one big ache, and my head is heavy, swimming with thoughts.

“Thank fuck you’re okay!” Jackson says, sighing as if he’s been sitting here watching me for hours.

Tugging my hand from his, I scowl at him. “Don’t touch me!” The words come out so raspy and distorted, I’m not sure if he even understood them.

Anguish contorts his features.

Why is he here?

“I’m sorry, Kennedy. I’m so fucking sorry. This is all my fault. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this better. Whatever you want. Tell me, and I’ll do it.”

“Leave,” I croak, trying to scoot away, but my limbs are still too heavy.

“Anything but that. I won’t leave you and not only because I promised your mom. I’m not leaving because I love you.”

Love? Is he serious?

All I can do is shake my head at him. How can he be talking about love right now? After what he did to me… what he said? I can’t wrap my head around it all. It’s too much. Too many emotions and thoughts rushing to the surface all at once.

“Please, go…”

“I can’t, bug. I can’t leave you. Not after I almost lost you forever.”

Closing my eyes, I turn my head away from him. I don’t want to see him right now, because every time I look at his face, I see him yelling at me. Telling me to cut myself while Tylor is standing next to him, grabbing his crotch. This is worse than my worst nightmare because it’s my reality.

“I won’t touch you or even talk to you if that’s what you want, but I’ll be staying here so I can watch over you.” I hear him retreating from me and taking a seat in the corner of the room. The tension eases from my body only slightly.

I try to go back to sleep, but my head hurts, and the skin on my legs burns too much to find any rest. When I attempt to move again to get comfortable in another position, I yelp out in pain as I tug on something connected to my arm.


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