Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Kane suggested we go for a late-night skate after we left Lucia and her men to deal with the mess Marcus created. I could tell he wanted to go back to Dahlia, but he offered that just to rein me in.
To ground me.
He’s worried about losing me to bloodlust.
However, I don’t even know how the fuck I’ll be able to play hockey without Preston around. I missed the last two games because I just couldn’t do it without him there. He’s the one who encouraged me when we were young and said he’d join because I loved it so much.
“Do you even like hockey?” I asked.
He grins, looking comical with his missing tooth. “Nah, but I can learn to! I’ll keep you company, that’s what bros are for.”
But he bailed out too soon, and now, I don’t even want to touch a stick. The whole game seems revolting without him.
And, really, I don’t want to practice—I just want Violet in my arms.
I need to ensure she’s doing well mentally. I don’t like how she’s been distracted lately or that she looks horrified whenever one of her ‘new’ family members gets in touch.
Knowing the Armstrongs, they’ll force her into their midst whether she likes it or not, but I’ll make sure no one makes her do anything she’s uncomfortable with.
Even if I have to become best friends with my father for it.
I’d do anything to guarantee they don’t destroy her like they did Preston.
Deep inside, I know Violet wants to belong to a family, but I’m sure she doesn’t want it to be one of our families.
Which is fair, to be honest. I wouldn’t wish this life on my worst enemy, let alone someone as pure and kind as Violet.
The bedroom door is ajar, and I frown.
She doesn’t usually leave it open.
My chest falls when I walk in and I don’t see her curled on her side in bed.
It’s three in the fucking morning. I left her asleep around ten.
“Violet?” I call, walking to the bathroom, but she’s not there.
My fist clenches as I go back to the bedroom and pause. It smells of her, but the mattress is cold.
My gaze flits to a folded piece of paper on the nightstand.
Dread gnaws at my insides as I grab it, and I have to sit down as I read.
Jude,
I’m sorry I couldn’t say goodbye in person.
You wouldn’t have let me go if I had.
I know you go out at night to kill the people who hurt me and Preston. You come back after showering, but I can still smell the blood when you wrap your arms around me to sleep.
And I can’t help thinking that you’re killing because of me, going on sprees to protect or avenge me. But that’s a weight I can’t carry. I just can’t.
I know how much you suffered because of your mom, and I don’t want to become another version of her. I don’t think I could survive that. Just knowing I’m the reason for someone else’s pain makes me feel hollow.
From the beginning, I should’ve known we were from different worlds. Yours is full of shadows. Mine is trying to find the light.
Being the illegitimate child of the Armstrongs means nothing to me. Blood doesn’t make someone family.
Preston was the closest thing I had to a biological family member, but he’s gone. I can never take his place in that family, and I don’t want to try.
Don’t worry. I won’t kill myself or hurt Dahlia irreversibly. Like you said, I’ll live for Mario and Preston and for the lives they couldn’t have because of me.
So I’m starting over somewhere new. A place where no one knows my name. I’ll never forget these months I spent with you.
I’ll treat our time together like a dream I was never meant to have.
I know you’ll be angry that I’m leaving, but truly, Jude, you can have anyone you want.
Hurting you is the last thing I want, especially with everything that’s going on, but I don’t want to add to your burden or cause you harm.
Mom said I’m a curse who’s meant to hurt everyone around her, and as much as I’m trying not to think that way, I believe I truly am. First, it was Mario, then Preston, and maybe the next time, it’ll be you.
I don’t think I’ll be able to live if you get hurt because of me, Jude. I just can’t.
Consider me a coward who ran away.
I hope you will respect my wishes.
Don’t look for me.
Please let me go.
Blue
38
VIOLET
The crunch of gravel reaches me first, and my fingers pause around the embroidery before I let it drop on the small couch.
I pull the curtain back and look out the window and see Dahlia hopping out of the car, juggling a box.
Two distinct emotions go through me: bitter relief and crushing disappointment.