[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
might go deeper.
Regardless of what is going on around us, I feel unsettled with the hope that s building
within. The hope that maybe, just maybe, it s okay to let her in. I don t know what to do with that
feeling. I ve spent so long refusing to believe in it that it s terrifying.
I woke up before the sun and started making plans and getting the ball rolling. I rented us a
place about an hour from home a cabin that one of our contacts owns. He is going to be overseas
for the next couple of months and needs someone to keep an eye on his place. In reality, I could have
just as easily passed this job to someone more local to him, but this is just what Emmy needs.
Somewhere neutral. Not back home, where our friends care too much to give her the time she needs,
and damn sure not in this hellhole I found her in.
I take a moment after returning to our room to watch her sleep. She doesn t look sad when
she s sleeping. I hate the part I ve played in her sadness. This time away together will be good
for us. If I really am going to forget everything that s been integrated into my life since birth, then I
need to make sure she can handle this baggage she is so willing to help me carry.
If there really is a future with us, then this is the time to find out.
Letting her sleep, I go about cleaning up the mess in the room and carry the few belongings we
had with us down to my Charger before settling into the chair in the corner and watching my angel. I
sit there in the shadows of the room and let myself feel, something I rarely do and never do when
someone can see me. I let the future that could be us play out in my mind, feeling that flicker of hope
grow a little larger when I can t see anything but her love for me& and mine for her.
**
We ve been on the road for a few hours now and she remains silent. I know she s still fuming
that I followed through with my promise that she wouldn t be going back to Syn. We went by her
hotel room, and as she stood pissed in the middle of the room, I packed her belongings into her
suitcases. Five minutes later, we were back in the car and on our way to Georgia.
I keep my mouth shut. There really isn t anything for me to gain by allowing her to pick a
fight. She wants to feel like she s in control of her life, and by me swooping in and taking over, she s
free-falling. It s not that I m trying to do that. I just want to make sure she s where she belongs and
not dancing for a room full of assholes while being at the hands of that motherfucker& Now that is
not where she belongs.
One day, maybe she will see where I m coming from, but if I have to get nothing but her anger
in return for her safety, then I m okay with that.
Where are we going, Mad? she whispers hoarsely.
Not home, so stop worrying about it. We re going to a cabin in Pine Hills. It s sitting on
fifty acres in the middle of nowhere. You need time, I get that, but you also need help getting over
everything. So when you re ready, we go home but not until you re ready.
She s quiet for so long that I look over at her. Her mouth is hanging slack, her eyes bugged
out in shock.
I need time? I need to get over everything? Well, isn t that magnanimous of you, Maddox
Locke. She laughs, the sound hitting my ears and making me cringe. Maybe while we re there, we
can find a mirror for you to look in and repeat that shit you just shoveled at my feet to yourself.
Hello? Pot, meet kettle.
This isn t about me, Emmy.
Oh, you stupid, stupid man. It s always been about you.
I don t let her see it, but her words hit home. She couldn t have delivered a more direct shot
if she d tried. Sure, she doesn t know what she just did. She doesn t know because you never let
her in, you idiot. My mother s words come back to me like a tsunami. The pain of always being her
stupid little boy tries to take root, but I brush it aside. Emmy is nothing like my mother, and even as
careless as her words are, she s talking out her hurt right now.
Emersyn, I start. Don t let my desire to protect you be confused as stupidity. It has never
been about me. I don t keep myself from you because I think it s some fun goddamn game. I pause,
needing a second to swallow the lump in my throat. I m trying so hard to keep my heart from breaking
free from my body. The emotions I ve hidden for so long are rattling the cages, just waiting for that
moment to pounce, and it terrifies me to think of what will be left of me if they get out. I ve been
told my whole life that I was the worst kinds of evil. That my soul is as black as my eyes and that
everything and everyone I touch will wilt at my hands. So, Emmy, this, I stress, pointing between
us, THIS has never, not once, been about me.
The rest of the ride is uncomfortable at best. I never intended to tell her that much. I struggle
during every mile with what I could say to take that verbal vomit and shovel it back in. She knows
more with just those few sentences than anyone else in my life.
And I m terrified to think about what she must think of me now. The man she has loved
unconditionally for years isn t who she thinks he is. I m sure she regrets every second of it now. I m
not sure what unsettles me more the thought that she might regret giving her love or that she might be
afraid of the truth of me.
Or worse& that she ll take that love away and never give it back.
**
When we get to Devon s cabin, I leave her to her exploring. She retreats to one of the back
bedrooms and shuts the door softly behind her. I give her that play, knowing that she s processing my
words.
I make sure that everything is stocked and we ll be set for the unforeseeable future. When
that s done, I m left with nothing left to do. The television holds no appeal. I call and check in with
Axel then settle on the couch. Knowing that I have some time alone, I take a second to rub the pained
muscles in my thighs. I need to get my prosthetic off before I do more damage than necessary to my
stump. It s been a long few weeks and I ve felt like this was coming for a while now. Usually when
the skin gets too irritated for me to wear the prosthetic, I work from home, giving the skin the rest it
needs and, sometimes, the sores time to heal. Keeping my weight off it for a while does the trick but
never fixes the issue.
I ve come to live with this part of my future. I hate every moment of it, but it s my reality.
What s wrong with your leg?
Her question startles me. I was so lost in my own head that I didn t even hear her coming into
the room.
I immediately pull my hand off my leg. Nothing.
Is that how this is going to be now? Okay. Why don t I tell you what I think is wrong with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pl doc.pisz.pl pdf.pisz.pl chiara76.opx.pl
might go deeper.
Regardless of what is going on around us, I feel unsettled with the hope that s building
within. The hope that maybe, just maybe, it s okay to let her in. I don t know what to do with that
feeling. I ve spent so long refusing to believe in it that it s terrifying.
I woke up before the sun and started making plans and getting the ball rolling. I rented us a
place about an hour from home a cabin that one of our contacts owns. He is going to be overseas
for the next couple of months and needs someone to keep an eye on his place. In reality, I could have
just as easily passed this job to someone more local to him, but this is just what Emmy needs.
Somewhere neutral. Not back home, where our friends care too much to give her the time she needs,
and damn sure not in this hellhole I found her in.
I take a moment after returning to our room to watch her sleep. She doesn t look sad when
she s sleeping. I hate the part I ve played in her sadness. This time away together will be good
for us. If I really am going to forget everything that s been integrated into my life since birth, then I
need to make sure she can handle this baggage she is so willing to help me carry.
If there really is a future with us, then this is the time to find out.
Letting her sleep, I go about cleaning up the mess in the room and carry the few belongings we
had with us down to my Charger before settling into the chair in the corner and watching my angel. I
sit there in the shadows of the room and let myself feel, something I rarely do and never do when
someone can see me. I let the future that could be us play out in my mind, feeling that flicker of hope
grow a little larger when I can t see anything but her love for me& and mine for her.
**
We ve been on the road for a few hours now and she remains silent. I know she s still fuming
that I followed through with my promise that she wouldn t be going back to Syn. We went by her
hotel room, and as she stood pissed in the middle of the room, I packed her belongings into her
suitcases. Five minutes later, we were back in the car and on our way to Georgia.
I keep my mouth shut. There really isn t anything for me to gain by allowing her to pick a
fight. She wants to feel like she s in control of her life, and by me swooping in and taking over, she s
free-falling. It s not that I m trying to do that. I just want to make sure she s where she belongs and
not dancing for a room full of assholes while being at the hands of that motherfucker& Now that is
not where she belongs.
One day, maybe she will see where I m coming from, but if I have to get nothing but her anger
in return for her safety, then I m okay with that.
Where are we going, Mad? she whispers hoarsely.
Not home, so stop worrying about it. We re going to a cabin in Pine Hills. It s sitting on
fifty acres in the middle of nowhere. You need time, I get that, but you also need help getting over
everything. So when you re ready, we go home but not until you re ready.
She s quiet for so long that I look over at her. Her mouth is hanging slack, her eyes bugged
out in shock.
I need time? I need to get over everything? Well, isn t that magnanimous of you, Maddox
Locke. She laughs, the sound hitting my ears and making me cringe. Maybe while we re there, we
can find a mirror for you to look in and repeat that shit you just shoveled at my feet to yourself.
Hello? Pot, meet kettle.
This isn t about me, Emmy.
Oh, you stupid, stupid man. It s always been about you.
I don t let her see it, but her words hit home. She couldn t have delivered a more direct shot
if she d tried. Sure, she doesn t know what she just did. She doesn t know because you never let
her in, you idiot. My mother s words come back to me like a tsunami. The pain of always being her
stupid little boy tries to take root, but I brush it aside. Emmy is nothing like my mother, and even as
careless as her words are, she s talking out her hurt right now.
Emersyn, I start. Don t let my desire to protect you be confused as stupidity. It has never
been about me. I don t keep myself from you because I think it s some fun goddamn game. I pause,
needing a second to swallow the lump in my throat. I m trying so hard to keep my heart from breaking
free from my body. The emotions I ve hidden for so long are rattling the cages, just waiting for that
moment to pounce, and it terrifies me to think of what will be left of me if they get out. I ve been
told my whole life that I was the worst kinds of evil. That my soul is as black as my eyes and that
everything and everyone I touch will wilt at my hands. So, Emmy, this, I stress, pointing between
us, THIS has never, not once, been about me.
The rest of the ride is uncomfortable at best. I never intended to tell her that much. I struggle
during every mile with what I could say to take that verbal vomit and shovel it back in. She knows
more with just those few sentences than anyone else in my life.
And I m terrified to think about what she must think of me now. The man she has loved
unconditionally for years isn t who she thinks he is. I m sure she regrets every second of it now. I m
not sure what unsettles me more the thought that she might regret giving her love or that she might be
afraid of the truth of me.
Or worse& that she ll take that love away and never give it back.
**
When we get to Devon s cabin, I leave her to her exploring. She retreats to one of the back
bedrooms and shuts the door softly behind her. I give her that play, knowing that she s processing my
words.
I make sure that everything is stocked and we ll be set for the unforeseeable future. When
that s done, I m left with nothing left to do. The television holds no appeal. I call and check in with
Axel then settle on the couch. Knowing that I have some time alone, I take a second to rub the pained
muscles in my thighs. I need to get my prosthetic off before I do more damage than necessary to my
stump. It s been a long few weeks and I ve felt like this was coming for a while now. Usually when
the skin gets too irritated for me to wear the prosthetic, I work from home, giving the skin the rest it
needs and, sometimes, the sores time to heal. Keeping my weight off it for a while does the trick but
never fixes the issue.
I ve come to live with this part of my future. I hate every moment of it, but it s my reality.
What s wrong with your leg?
Her question startles me. I was so lost in my own head that I didn t even hear her coming into
the room.
I immediately pull my hand off my leg. Nothing.
Is that how this is going to be now? Okay. Why don t I tell you what I think is wrong with [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]