Madison's Song by Christine Amsden

Author:Christine Amsden [Amsden, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781606192825
Publisher: Twilight Times Books
Published: 2015-06-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

SHE WASN’T GOING TO CRY. SHE could not cry, but this was all too much for her, and she had to find someplace she could be alone. After Evan ushered her out the door, she broke free of his arm, making a mad dash for the back of the motel complex and her rented room. Once inside, she slammed the door shut, automatically locking it, then threw the chain in place.

For a few seconds she stood there in the entrance, staring at two unmade beds with threadbare linens and old, lumpy mattresses. Somewhere on the other side of the building, in a similar room, a woman might be dying at this very instant, a woman who knew she needed help, but who didn’t believe she could get the kind she needed before someone else died. Was Scott right? Did she have to die?

And then she came to the real problem. What if... what if it were Clinton? What would he do then? Unfortunately, she knew the answer. She had seen the answer more than once in the past twenty-four hours, and it made her feel sick inside.

She had softened towards him. She had begun to forget who he was, though in his defense he had never tried to deny it. He was a killer. A monster. A werewolf. She didn’t understand his world.

She collapsed face down onto the bed furthest from the door, which Scott had slept in the night before. It still smelled like him.

The tears fell in silent waves, drenching the sheets and making a mess of her shirt. She didn’t cry softly or prettily, though she almost always cried silently. Crying was a weakness she couldn’t let anyone see.

Which was why she nearly screamed when she felt strong arms wrap themselves around her quaking form. She hadn’t even heard him come inside, but of course locks and chains didn’t mean much to someone like Evan. He didn’t say anything; he only held her, rocking her back and forth slightly.

She cried harder. She could not remember the last time she had been held, really been held. There had been Nicolas, during intimate moments, but he had never been much of a cuddler. Before that, it must have been childhood. Her father had held her like this, long ago, before her mother had died. She had almost forgotten. Remembering now made her cry even harder.

“It’s okay,” Evan murmured, smoothing back her hair.

Oh, God, she had to stop. This wasn’t her, crying like a baby for attention. She didn’t want attention, she just needed to let it all out, to experience the catharsis of tears.

“I’m sorry,” Madison whispered brokenly. She wiped furiously at her eyes, but only succeeded in making a bigger mess.

His arms tightened around her. “Let it out.”

“I’m a mess.”

“I don’t care.”

After that, she let it out. She cried like she hadn’t cried in years, making a terrible mess of both of them. Still, he held on. Finally, after an age, her tears slowed. She sat up straight, more than half ready to flee now that she had some semblance of control.

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