The Missing- Volume II- Lies by A. Meredith Walters, A. M. Irvin Read Free Book Online

a point.
    His face flushed and I knew I was tiptoeing a very dangerous line. But I continued. I wanted to see the eruption. To see him crumble. Just so I could put him back together. It was my right. My honor. And I cherished it.
    No one could glue together my pieces. But I could do this for him.
    It didn’t matter that I was the one tearing him down.
    “If I want to be with her, I will. If I want to love her, then I’m going to. And if things change, then you have to accept that.”
    “What about your mother? What will you do about her?” he demanded.
    I felt cold. So cold.
    Mother.
    My throat was paralyzed. I couldn’t speak.
    Mother.
    Bradley saw the look on my face and relented. Just slightly.
    “I won’t let anything happen to you,” he swore, approaching me on his knees.
    “You already have,” I accused.
    Bradley recoiled.
    “You watch. Always watching. But what have you ever done to stop it?” I hadn’t realized I felt that way. Not until the words were out of my mouth.
    “What would you have me do?” he asked softly.
    I closed my eyes, pinching my lips, feeling the scars tighten. “I want you to burn them all for me, Bradley. Every single one of them.”
    Bradley smiled. Or at least tried to. “We both know you can burn them yourself.”
    He was right. I never had a problem with wielding fire.
    I smelled the smoke again. It was stronger this time. A slight breeze swept in from the hallway stirring up memories with the lingering scent of flames.
    “You really shouldn’t be here,” Bradley remarked.
    “Where else would I be?” I asked.
    “They condemned this place after the—”
    “The fire,” I whispered, interrupting him. Finishing the thought for myself.
    The fire.
    I looked around, remembering a room full of saddles and tools. Of sitting in the corner watching Dad work. Often times he’d forget that I was there at all. I was invisible. Even to him.
    “I wonder if Rosie ever comes here,” I mused unkindly.
    Bradley frowned, looking at me oddly. Perhaps wondering why I had mentioned her at all. I giggled. “I know, it’s probably in bad taste to bring her up, here of all places.”
    My friend continued to stare at me, clearly bothered by my less than appropriate response to such an awful topic.
    I cleared my throat and rubbed at my scar above my lip. A nervous gesture I had developed in the weeks since my surgery. “You came here with me before. Do you remember?” I asked him, changing the subject.
    Bradley’s eyes darkened before dulling into nothingness once again. “I remember you waiting for a man to acknowledge you when we both knew it would never happen. You loved a lie, Nora. I wish you’d stop putting that ass on a pedestal.”
    Bradley had a lot of resentment when it came to my dad. I understood it. My father was a coward in so many ways. But his easy dismissal of the only good thing in my childhood pissed me off. It had always been the only source of contention between us.
    Until Maren.
    “What’s the point of being angry with someone who’s gone?” I pointed out, feeling sad. I hated feeling sad. Why did Bradley insist on making me feel that way? Why did he bring up things I wished he’d leave alone?
    Bradley picked up the bag of chips and held it out for me to take, which I did. “Let’s go, Nora. Let’s just pick up our bags and leave. Never look back.” He sounded needy. For just a moment I wished I could give him what he wanted.
    But there were limits to what I would do for him. There was only so far I would ever be willing to go. I had been conditioned to stay. It was ingrained. I told myself that I was terrified, that if I tried to leave, she’d find me and it would be so much worse when she did.
    But that was a lie.
    I knew Mother would never look for me.
    That’s not the reason I stayed.
    I stayed because no one would look for me. And that, in my broken, needy heart, was so much worse.
    “You could leave,” I suggested, knowing he never would. I could