Book of Revenge Read Online Free PDF

mean he gave me a rock that told me a Truth,” he went on.
    I tried again. “What’s a Truth?”
    He heard me this time, and sighed. “A Truth is a certainty, sort of like seeing your future, though it’s more of an answer to your biggest question. A Truth is just simply the truth.”
    I nodded, wanting to understand, but finding it difficult.
    “I took this rock, and something amazing happened. I went to this field, and…” he stopped himself.
    His pauses were really getting tiresome. “And… what?” I was already seeing myself in this field where I was left hanging.
    His lip curled, revealing the dimple in his cheek that I loved so much. “I saw you there.”
    I narrowed my vision, not completely believing him. “Me?”
    “You.”
    My eyes felt heavy. Happiness, excitement, love and desire all streamed through me and into him. He was using up my positive energy telling his story, and exhaustion overwhelmed me.
    Max went on as I sat back. “You were there. You were laughing. I was laughing. I hadn’t felt that happy in so long, Jane. You have to understand how amazing it felt.” His eyes were deep, sucking me into his soul. “I never learned your name in that dream, but I could never forget the way you looked, the way you smelled. ”
    The bottle was still in my hand and I looked at it lazily. I hadn’t paid much mind to its subtle details before, but I realized it was only half full.
    The way I smelled?
    I swallowed, twisting the bottle amongst my fingers. It suddenly felt heavy in my hand, no longer a simple, sweet gift, but a remnant of the pain he had endured, and the longing he’d had for me for so long. This bottle was the one thing he could hold onto in his otherwise dark and unforgiving past. This perfume had been his hope.
    Max’s weight shifted, and I could tell that he’d seen I’d put the pieces together. “That was all I had to remember you by. The scent was a name to me, in and of itself. It’s all I needed to remember that something better was coming, that there would be a light at the end of it all, and you, my best friend and love.”
    The question I wanted to ask grew thick on my tongue. I felt such pain, such sadness. How long had he waited for me? “How long ago was that, exactly?” I said it simply.
    His mouth trembled slightly. “It was 1942.” His gaze fell, as though he were about to cry, though he couldn’t. That simple gesture was stolen from him, instead only offered through my own tears. I felt him weaken between my knees, a sudden vulnerability released from such a simple gesture.
    Sixty years. He had waited for me for sixty years.
     
     
    Avery:
     
    I smacked my lips and looked at my nails, waiting impatiently. The trees around me were bare, other than the few evergreens that were mixed in. Fall had once again descended on the mountains of Colorado and I realized just how much I’d missed this place. Grasping at the strap of my quiver, I yanked on it, inspecting the gold inlay and following the pattern with the tip of my finger.
    I exhaled impatiently. “Come on, Greg,” I mumbled, shaking my leg. “Any day now.”
    No sooner did the words fall from my lips that I heard the distant sound of footsteps. They were heavy, clumsy, and outright disturbing. It was definitely him. Greg had finally entered the wood, his arrival expected in a moment’s time.
    “Finally.” I stood tall, flipping my curls and poisoning the air with the smell of cinnamon.
    I shut my eyes and envisioned Greg. His form slipped through the trees, rounding an evergreen about forty feet away. His black leather coat was flashy and a sharp contrast against the rugged beauty of the bark. He hadn’t seen me yet, and I delighted in that fact. Opening my eyes, I reached over my back and grasped an arrow from my quiver. The bow was tucked into my belt; I unhooked it and loaded the string. I brought the golden, feathered end of the balanced arrow to eye level, envisioning its directed path, whizzing