| Author: | Terri Anne Browning | ISBN: | 1230003091951 |
| Publisher: | Anna Henson | Publication: | February 28, 2019 |
| Imprint: | Language: | English |
| Author: | Terri Anne Browning |
| ISBN: | 1230003091951 |
| Publisher: | Anna Henson |
| Publication: | February 28, 2019 |
| Imprint: | |
| Language: | English |
Rewind.
I hit the rewind button on the old VHS tape that contains my memories, causing the past to scream across my closed lids.
Past the nightmare where Enzo Fontana goads me, threatening my family, wanting all the secrets of my MC that I refuse to give him.
Past the evil laughter that reaches me even in the sweat-soaked, pain-filled oblivion of near-death sleep.
Past the blast I thought would end me, the searing pain of the heat that melted my back, the shattering glass still lodged in parts of my body.
Past the months of loneliness because I let the one person I knew I couldn’t live without walk out of my life because I knew I wasn’t good enough for her.
Pause.
There she is.
Smiling up at me as I lean over her. Kissing her like I have the right to. Like I’m not stealing a moment in time I will have to live off of for the rest of my life.
A life that is going to end very, very soon.
I’m dying. I can feel the life begin to fade from me. My body, which has been tortured for days, perhaps even weeks—I don’t even know anymore—will give up soon.
And all I want to do is think about her.
That smile. The sweet taste of her lips. The little sounds she made as she gave me the most precious thing any woman could give a man. The love in her eyes in the afterglow.
She was mine then.
And I would forever be hers.
“Jos,” I groaned, letting the first tear leak from my eyes.
Rewind.
I hit the rewind button on the old VHS tape that contains my memories, causing the past to scream across my closed lids.
Past the nightmare where Enzo Fontana goads me, threatening my family, wanting all the secrets of my MC that I refuse to give him.
Past the evil laughter that reaches me even in the sweat-soaked, pain-filled oblivion of near-death sleep.
Past the blast I thought would end me, the searing pain of the heat that melted my back, the shattering glass still lodged in parts of my body.
Past the months of loneliness because I let the one person I knew I couldn’t live without walk out of my life because I knew I wasn’t good enough for her.
Pause.
There she is.
Smiling up at me as I lean over her. Kissing her like I have the right to. Like I’m not stealing a moment in time I will have to live off of for the rest of my life.
A life that is going to end very, very soon.
I’m dying. I can feel the life begin to fade from me. My body, which has been tortured for days, perhaps even weeks—I don’t even know anymore—will give up soon.
And all I want to do is think about her.
That smile. The sweet taste of her lips. The little sounds she made as she gave me the most precious thing any woman could give a man. The love in her eyes in the afterglow.
She was mine then.
And I would forever be hers.
“Jos,” I groaned, letting the first tear leak from my eyes.
