Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
But I find the old path. It’s still there, if a little rough. I follow around the same trees, some of them fallen now, some of them cracked and scarred from lightning strikes and heavy windstorms, and round the bend toward the creek.
That’s there too. Water burbles in the bank, over the rocks. My stomach gurgles just like that. Ahead, Nolan’s standing under the tree, that massive old pine with its lower branches mostly shorn off and the fresh bark a light brown and glistening with humidity.
He doesn’t fit this place anymore, either. He’s a giant now, same as me.
I wrap my arms around myself and stop a few yards away from him. He leans against the trunk, staring at me the way he used to, half with anticipation and excitement and half with skepticism like he’s not sure if I’m about to turn around and run.
“We couldn’t talk anywhere else,” he says, staring into my eyes.
“Why’s that? I haven’t been back here in a long time.”
“I haven’t either.” He doesn’t say when the last time was. We both know. “The office isn’t safe. Your place isn’t safe. I’m not sure my truck’s safe. But I know nobody’s listening out here.”
“Who would be listening to us talk, Nolan? What the hell is going on?”
He takes a long breath and slowly lets it out. He tilts his chin up and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows and closes his eyes. “Fuck, Cora. I haven’t been completely honest about why I want to keep you around.”
I let that sink in. Birds chirp nearby and a squirrel hurries down a branch and scatters into the nearby bushes.
“What are you keeping from me?” I feel like my voice is too small for these woods.
“I didn’t want to tell you any of this. I wanted to keep it quiet and let things shake out, but I’m not sure that’s fair anymore, especially after how shit went down last time.”
I chew on my lip. “You’re starting to freak me out, Nolan.”
“You should be freaked out.” His gaze is level and harsh. “Things with the ORB are about to get bad. I’ll be honest, you showing up at my door was shit timing for both of us, but that stunt with Jaxson isn’t the reason everything’s blowing up. Our relationship with those biker assholes has been dicey for a while now and it was going to blow up sooner or later.”
“Then I want out.” I take a step back through leaves and curl my hands into fists. “I’m not doing this again, not when I have Kady to watch out for. You want me to lose the last person in my life that matters? No, I’m done, Nolan.”
“I thought you might say that.” He tilts his head, studying me. His eyes move down my body like he’s remembering something, but he doesn’t smile. “That’s only the context. Now you need the reason.”
“The reason for what? What the hell are you talking about?”
“The reason I dragged you into my world again.” His eyes meet mine. “I want to find out who killed your mother, Cora. I want to find out who betrayed you and fucked up my life.”
I feel like I’m being dragged into the mossy loam, like the soft earth’s sucking my shoes and shins and thighs and dragging me deep into the muddy darkness. I can taste soil, dirt, filth, and I want to gag. I want to find words. But there’s nothing, only the wind in trees and Nolan’s hard stare like he might crack me open with his eyes alone.
He pushes off the tree and steps toward me. “Say something.”
“You piece of shit.” Anger courses through me and I snap my jaw shut before I really speak my mind.
“Okay, that’s a start.”
“You’re going to stand there and pretend like you don’t know who killed my mother? You knew her, Nolan. She fed you dinner when your parents were either too high to cook or too angry to let you stick around without beating your ass. She took you in some days, you remember that?”
“I remember,” he says and his voice is hard. “I also remember her boyfriends slapping you around. I remember that one guy Bobby—”
“Fuck you,” I say, jerking toward him. “Don’t you dare—”
“I remember you crying in my arms how he came into the bathroom while you were showering and tried to get in with you and how your mother told you that’s because you’re always prancing around in little shorts—”
“I was thirteen years fucking old, and don’t you dare bring that up right now—”
“I remember hugging you and telling you it’ll be okay, and I remember taking a tire iron to that fucking perv’s truck. I remember your mother dumping him two days later after I cornered her out back and told her what you told me and I remember the look on her face like she wanted to be sick. All she did was thank me for telling her the truth.”