Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
The house that I once feared has somehow become one I find solace in, and I don’t know if it has to do with the people who are staying in it or the house itself.
Cooper whistles as we head out the front door. “You know how out of character that is for him. I have to ask though.” Cooper taps his glasses down from his head and they land on the bridge of his nose perfectly. “How did you both get over your grudge?”
“I don’t know.”
I take the steps down onto the cobblestone driveway as we make our way to the side garage. I toss the keys in the palm of my hand, looking between the little remote and the tiny rectangle that has the Lambo logo on it. I push the button on the other remote and we both watch as the garage door lifts. The bright matte red Lamborghini is famous in the tabloids. I don’t know if it’s the distinctive color, or the fact that the plate on it is MUSGOD.
“Oh—” Cooper rubs his hands together and bounces like a little girl. “I cannot believe he gave you the keys to this. We have my cousin’s wedding this week in Spain, which by the way, you’re totally coming to. I’m definitely taking photos to show everyone.”
I open the driver’s door, not answering him about the wedding. Dion hasn’t mentioned anything, and our relationship is anything but conventional. Somehow, I think public appearances—family included—don’t fit the memo of the girl he grew up with and hated and is now fucking.
I slide into the driver’s seat and push the start button. The engine fires up below my ass. “Where are we going, mystery boy?”
Cooper pushes his glasses down the bridge of his nose slightly, his eyes resting on mine. I forget sometimes that Cooper is a boy. He has always been everything I ever wanted in a friend, and he keeps all the drama away from me, since he is always in the middle of it. The mean girls of our school? Don’t stand a chance up against Cooper Quinn. None of them bother me because he is mean. And I don’t mean ‘mean’ as in catty, I mean mean. He has been our school bully all through elementary school and throughout high school. He isn’t an asshole; he is a bully. I make it my job to try to keep him in line, but it only works at times. He is also handsome and has more game than any of our school jocks.
Speaking of jocks. “You think Ruin will be coming?”
Cooper clicks his fingers as I search around the car, trying to find the gears. Jesus, I think I’d rather walk at this point. What if I crash it? I sit up straight in my seat, tucking one side of my unruly brunette curls behind my ear.
“I would say so, since everyone is going to be there.”
I find the gears and put it into reverse, tapping the accelerator lightly. The car rolls out slowly, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “Fuck! That was nerve-racking!”
Cooper barks out a laugh, pulling out his phone as I put the Lambo into drive and out the gates. “Selfie!” I smile wide at the camera lens as Cooper snaps it, bringing it back down to do all the little filter bits and publishing it. Squeezing the wheel, I sit up straighter in my seat.
“This is terrifying. Cooper, where am I going so I can park?”
He turns on the radio and it plays a The Weeknd song. “You’re going to the surf club!”
“You planned something at the surf club?” I turn in my chair slightly, directing us onto the main street of Hades Hollow. It’s peak time for town. The morning rush fills the street of Dungeon Alley. The shops here are different to anything else outside the barrier of Hades Hollow. The buildings are older, the structures something you would have seen back in the founding times. Shop buildings are made up of cobblestone and concrete. There are small beach boutiques with Hamptons-style paintwork and some shops with a more modern touch. Hades Hollow is of nothing anyone has ever seen before, and I know that because so many tourists that come through are fascinated by our town. We aren’t. Most of us get out when we can, or we stay and die here. I can’t decide which it will be for me.
I slow down as we roll through the streets, and every person turns when they hear the car. It’s not just Hollywood that knows this is Dion Quinn’s car. Everyone here does too.
“Jesus, it’s like the antichrist walking through the streets of heaven.”
“Well,” I murmur, turning the blinker on to where the surf club entrance is, right on the beachfront. “I guess it kind of is. Since not everyone likes Dion.”