Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
That’s not fucking good.
“I kept my mouth shut even though I knew it was happening. I stayed silent in hopes that you would end it yourself,” Hawke says furiously. “I fucking knew something was up with you. Eli and Dutton are cousins. So when Dutton wants to kill you, Eli will have his back.” I say nothing. “Which means I will have to kill my only friend.”
Everyone thinks Hawke has a lot of friends because he seems so outgoing and friendly. But the truth is, other than myself, he only really respects Eli and Dutton. We’re the only ones who really know him, and I know I’m being selfish by potentially destroying that for us.
“It won’t come to that,” I tell him, even though I don’t know if it’s true, as I pull the milk out of the fridge and drink it straight from the carton. I’ll still put Billie first. And that hits me with an alarming feeling of anguish. I never thought I’d put anyone before my brother. I’d die for him, but I’d do the same for her.
“You say that now, but we both know Dutton would never approve of you being with his baby sister. He knows where we come from. And while you might think they accept us, we weren’t raised the same as them.”
A knock comes on the door, and I don’t ask if it’s Billie because I know it’s not. With the way Hawke’s looking at me, I can tell he said something to her that made her leave.
“Let’s stop talking about this,” I say as I walk to the door. I adjust my loose PJ pants, a slight sting on my ass reminding me of the new tattoo.
When I open the door, I find our cousin standing there. Hope pushes her glasses up her nose and looks at me. She’s an unusual visitor, considering she prefers to keep to herself when she’s in town.
“This letter was on your front porch,” she says, handing me an envelope. “I need to talk to both of you.” She pushes past me, welcoming herself in.
I flick the envelope back and forth, confused by the sealed note without a stamp.
“This is important. I need your help,” Hope says quickly. I close the door and follow her to the kitchen, not at all surprised that she expected to find Hawke here, too.
She isn’t our blood cousin, but we’ve been around her since Anya and River adopted us. Considering her father and my mother are twins—and bat shit crazy themselves—we immediately had things to bond over.
Hope is only twenty-two, four years younger than us, so Alex was especially guarded about bringing her around when we were all teenagers. But he soon came to realize she’s like the little sister we never had. He also trusts Anya’s instincts, which somehow gave us a pass directly into his very limited circle of trust.
She drops into town from time to time when she’s not touring the world for her sculptures. And although we don’t see her often, she’s another person we will do anything for.
She’s very guarded, much like her father, and I respect that because I’m the same. But she also has a softer side, which I think is thanks to her mother. Lena Love has always accepted Hawke and me. In fact, I’m certain we almost got killed the first time we met her because she gave us a hug, which flared Alek’s jealousy. But she never once judged us as delinquents. She was also the first person to ever take us to see a movie in the cinema, which is weird when you think about it because that’s something children do with their parents. But we didn’t have a normal childhood. And Anya Ivanov wouldn’t be caught dead doing something so mundane.
Hawke grabs a third plate and starts serving her food. She thanks him softly.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
She swallows and nervously fiddles with her thumbs for a moment, then seems to find some resolve as she meets our eyes.
“I want you to teach me how to kill someone.”
We both stare at her in shock.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Hawke blurts.
“Oh, yes, little red, we totally can. As long as Uncle Alek won’t remove our balls because of it,” I say.
She looks down at the food—greasy bacon and eggs—and starts pushing it around with her fork. This is not something I expected at all from Hope.
I open the envelope with a knife as we wait for her to continue.
“I don’t want my father to find out,” she says with a smile, and it looks half-crazed considering the request.
“Not find out?” I scoff. “You know who your father is, right?”
She pushes her glasses up her nose. “If we can keep it between us, that would be great.”
“Okay, so who are we helping you kill?” Hawke asks excitedly.