Willing Captive Read Online Belle Aurora

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Funny, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82860 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
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No matter how fast I go, I can’t seem to catch up with him.

My hands shake and my eyes blur. I must look like a crazy person running through the street sobbing. Wiping my watery eyes with my sleeve, I look again.

He’s gone.

“Fuck!” My heart pounds and blood roars in my ears. I keep running. Through gasping and shuddering breaths, I mutter “No,” over and over again.

I search and search but there’s no sign of him. He’s gone. I kneel in the center of the sidewalk. My body slumps forward, I cover my face with my hands, and let go.

Crying in frustration.

Crying for my loss.

Arms come around my body. I’m lifted into a strong, warm bear-hug. A deep voice whispers reassuring words that I can’t hear. Or just don’t want to.

I look up into warm, brown eyes. I croak, “What the fuck, Rock?”

His eyes become sad, and he quietly says, “Lovely Lily.” He looks around and states, “I shouldn’t be here.”

Gripping his shirt, I ask in desperation, “Is he dead? As in, really dead?”

Rock doesn’t answer for a long moment. Using his thumb, he wipes away my tears and tucks my hair behind my ear. His face is clear. It answers for me.

My heart breaks a little more.

Rock whispers, “He’s gone, sweetie.”

I still can’t accept it. “How do you know? Did they find him?”

He shakes his head. “They found bone fragments matching his in the rubble.”

My lip trembles, but I simply nod. He holds me tightly and silently. Wordlessly, we mourn together. Pulling away from him, I ask softly, “When can I see you again?”

Rock’s face plummets further.

I dip my chin, cover my eyes with one shaking hand, and cry harder. My heart is breaking even more. I’m losing them. All of them.

My first love.

My first real friends.

All the people I love and care about.

I lift my face to his and choke out, “Why?”

A single tear escapes Rock as he explains, “Because we don’t exist, babe. You can’t have imaginary friends.”

We stare into one another’s eyes. Rock begins to walk backwards.

Hyperventilating, I put a hand to my heart. I feel it crack a little more with every step he takes away from me. When he gets far enough away, he yells out, “You’ll never be alone, Lily.” He kisses his fingertips and places them on his heart. “I’ll always be watching.” Rock smiles a watery smile, and attempts to wink that cheeky wink of his, then he turns and walks out of my life.

Again.

Chapter Twenty-Two

The best place to be

Lily

If you could go back in time, what would you change?

I would change a lot about the life I was living.

I would stand up to my father. I would talk more openly to my mother. I would make friends. I would tell my sister how much I appreciate her love and support. Every. Single. Day.

I would be more outgoing and less passive. I would stand up for myself, and fight for my right to live the way I wanted to. I would take the reins on my life.

I would be brave.

It has been six months since the explosion. Six months since Nox was killed. Since he was taken from me.

You know that saying ‘time heals all wounds’? Time seems to be working against me for unknown reasons, because my wounds are still raw, gaping, and tender. But no one can see them. My heart and head are no longer separate entities. They are joined. And they work together to bully me. They both tell me the same thing.

Move on.

Tears fill my eyes, and I pick thin strands of dewy grass. Rolling them between my fingers, it’s a wonder I can feel the wetness on my fingertips. I don’t feel a thing anymore.

I’m numb. To my very core.

I haven’t seen my father in months. We talk on occasion, but a lot has changed. It’s not that I blame him for the position my family was put in, but I need space. I don’t really want to see anyone. I speak to Mom and Terah almost every day, but I haven’t seen Mom since I left the mansion.

My father begged me to come home, but now that the threat of being killed has been eliminated, I just want to be on my own.

I’m not a child. I’m a grownup, dammit.

There is a difference between living and existing. And mine was a dull existence.

No more.

But there is one dull and morbid thing I still like to do, and according to my therapist, it’s helping me a lot.

The cemetery seems to be a good place to go to mourn. I sit and watch other people visit the headstones of their loved ones. They must feel some form of connection, knowing they are close by.

Some chat. Some laugh. Some cry. Some remain silent.

I have nothing.

Nox…he was never found. I have no headstone to mourn at. People who don’t exist don’t get funerals or graves.


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