Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
This isn’t fencing anymore. It’s more like medieval sword fighting. I whip my blade against him over and over, but his protective jacket absorbs the bulk of my attack. Even if it doesn’t, I don’t think he cares; he simply takes the blows and parries what he can’t.
I lunge, lose my footing from sheer anger, and end up crashing into him. He staggers back and turns me, bringing me down with complete control and ease. As I hit the soft floor, I realize this is his domain; without the swords, I’m nothing to him.
He could break me.
His knee pins my wrist down. I try to punch him, but he catches my fist and pushes it up above my head. With his free hand, he rips his mask off and throws it aside.
This is new. He’s never done this before. Even deep in passion, he hasn’t taken off his mask. But now he’s staring down at me, face bare, eyes hard and filled with hurt, and I don’t even understand what’s going on.
“I found it,” he says, whispering harshly. “Do you even know what kind of game you’re playing? Do you have any idea what my father will do to you once he’s finished?”
“Your father?” My face screws up in confusion. “What’s he got to do with anything?”
Then I remember. The ride home. The conversation.
The card he gave me.
Lev pulls it from a pocket in his pants and drops it on my chest. For a second, I think he’s going to hit me in the face, break my nose, bloody me, and bruise me.
Instead, he releases my hand and gets up, freeing my sword arm.
I sit up on an elbow, breathing hard. Nothing hurts, even though it could. I lift the card up and stare at it before looking back at him.
“You don’t understand,” I say, but he’s turning away already.
“Have you been his little spy this whole time? Have you been taking notes for him? Was any of this even real?”
“Lev, hold on.” I push myself to my feet. I shove my mask to the floor and shake my gloves off. “He only gave me that today. I swear, I never—”
He’s not looking at me as he starts to walk to the steps. “I’m glad you never took me up on my offer. This would’ve been worse if you had agreed to sleep in my bed.” He pauses and looks back at me. “At least you didn’t sink that low.”
“Lev,” I say, pulse racing. “Just hold on and listen for a second.”
He leaves me there alone.
I think about going after him, but that last look was haunted. It was also terrifying, like he was barely in control of himself.
And if I’m honest, I’m afraid of what he might do if I step foot in his room right now.
I’m trembling as I gather my things and head to bed.
Sleep’s not coming easy tonight.
Chapter 27
Lev
Ifelt my control slip for the first time since I was a teenager.
It’s been years, but I can still remember. It happened when I was sixteen. Two assholes jumped Stepan over some bullshit rumor they heard about Step fucking one of their cousins. He was walking home from school and I wasn’t there because I’d been staying after school for soccer practice.
But when I heard what happened, I went fucking ballistic.
Nobody expects it from me. Charming, happy Lev. The guy with a brilliant smile. Even those two piece-of-shit teenage scumbags thought I was there to hang out, and it was like they still couldn’t believe it when I beat both of them to a bloody pulp with a baseball bat.
I broke the one guy’s ribs in three places and shattered the other’s wrist when he tried to protect himself. I bloodied them both pretty bad, and I’m lucky neither of them was killed.
Dad made sure they didn’t press charges. But they should have. I should’ve been locked away for what I did.
After that, Step made sure I learned how to control myself. He made it clear that I couldn’t let loose like that ever again, and I listened to Step. He was always my moral compass. He was the only person in my life that really understood me.
Now he’s dead and I’m alone.
That’s what I felt when I had Carmie pinned to the floor. I planned on confronting her about the card but the second she came into the room, I just lost my mind. I wanted her—I needed her—I’d been fighting my feelings for her. But finding my father’s number tucked away with her things on the kitchen counter felt like someone ripped out my intestines and wrapped them around my throat.
I’d never hurt her. No matter what, I’d never stoop so fucking low. But I knew I’d cross a line if I didn’t get out of there. I’d say something to ruin our fragile peace, and I don’t think I could live with myself if that happened.