Forgetting August(13)

And still I had nothing. Nothing but more questions, more confusion—and even more frustration.

“What did I do to you?” I blurted out, stopping her in her tracks as she reached the door. “What kind of man was I, Everly?”

She spun around, her face filled with shock and raw awe as she took a single step back.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“No, I genuinely want to know. I was here for two years. Two years and not a single visitor and now you’ve come and treated me like I’m a viper. I need to know.”

“Fine.” Her hands clenched by her sides as she briefly closed her eyes. “You want to play this game. Let’s play. You want to know what kind of asshole would deserve this kind of animosity? What kind of cold-hearted jerk could be in a hospital for two years and yet no one gave a fuck.”

“Yes,” I whispered.

She took a few steps closer and answered, “The controlling, manipulative kind. August Kincaid is a monster who takes what he wants out of life, no matter the cost. The only thing that matters to him is money, and greed is his ultimate idol. He’s the type of man who keeps his girlfriend imprisoned in their own home for two years because he’s so batshit crazy he believes the entire world is out to get him and they’ll do anything—including taking her. August Kincaid is jealous, domineering and—”

“Stop. I’ve heard enough,” I said, holding my hand up. I suddenly felt sick, as every word she’d said settled deep in my chest.

“It’s enough,” I echoed, feeling like I’d just been gut punched.

My mind reeled as I processed everything she’d just said. I’d imprisoned her? For years?

“Did I ever hurt you? I mean, did I ever physically abuse you?” I asked, turning my face away from her, too ashamed to even look in her direction.

“No,” she answered softly. “But I’ve since learned that abuse comes in many forms.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” she asked.

“No,” I managed to say, the word harsh against my throat.

“Anything?”

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes as the reality of my life swept over me. I’d been a horrible, horrible man.

“I think I’ve had enough visiting for today,” I said, still turned away from her.

“Right. Of course. Good-bye, August.”

I looked up and her eyes met mine, and I saw her clenched fists loosen. She lifted her hand as if to offer it to me in some way. Maybe a handshake, or a simple touch… She might not have even realized she’d done it, but I did.

I also noticed her hand quiver and shake as she reached for me.

“Good-bye, Everly,” I said, ending her trancelike movement toward me.

She stopped, blinking briefly as her face went blank. I didn’t watch her walk away, but the door clicked shut seconds later.

I was once again alone.

After learning about the real August Kincaid, I decided that was exactly what I deserved.





Chapter Five

Everly



I should have gone straight home.

Ryan was a worrier and I could see him now, pacing an uneasy path back and forth through our worn carpet as he counted down the hours wondering when I would return home safe and sound.

I’d woken up this morning nervous and agitated, wondering what I was doing and why I’d made such an enormous, stupid decision like this one. I wanted to cave—to dive under the tranquility of my covers and live the rest of my life from the safety of my bed.

It was a legitimate idea; I doubt I was the first female who’d considered it. Beds were safe. Beds were understanding and never neglected you.

Rather than talking me out of the decision I’d made, Ryan had pulled me out of bed, made me French toast and the one thing that always cheered me up.

Coffee. Blessed, wonderful coffee.

As I’d sat down, wondering how I’d managed to find a man as wonderful as him, he’d solidified my faith in him even further.

“You can’t back out now,” he’d said. “You’ll regret it. You’ll always wonder what life would have been like if you’d taken this chance. So, even though I hate the thought of you being in the same room as him—go. You’ll be better because of it.”

I sat there in awed silence, staring up at him, amazed by his supportive nature, until he leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on my lips and reminded me my breakfast was getting cold. I’d quickly slathered my French toast with peanut butter while he made gagging noises and grimaced as I’d poured half a bottle of maple syrup on top of the peanut butter.

“That’s seriously disgusting.”