Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
I grab at my braid, not entirely certain he didn’t pull a handful out. “What the fuck? Are you trying to kill me?”
“I might be,” he snarls. “It’s obvious you’re trying to get both of us killed, aren’t you?”
“I’m not,” I protest weakly, backing up against the car hood as he storms toward me.
“Aren’t you?” He kicks my fallen bike aside, the metal crashing overloud on the too-silent street. “You didn’t have cramps yesterday, did you? I thought something was up but I figured you were just being lazy. Turns out you’re a sneaky-ass bitch.” He gets in my face, pressing his bigger body against mine as I remain trapped against the car.
I push at his chest with my stump, hoping to repulse him, but he remains far too close. “Get away from me,” I huff. “And I did have cramps—”
“If I put my hand between your legs, am I gonna find you bleeding?” Brady sneers. “Because I’ll do it unless you admit the truth. Right fucking now, Scarface.”
I go still, terrified. Brady’s always been quiet sneers and mocking words. The hand that pulled on my braid as I biked, though? That was with intention to hurt me. And right now he’s glowering and in my face and I’m more than a little terrified. The last thing I want is for him to touch me in a private area. I debate my options, and then confess the truth. “I’m not on my period.”
He grabs me by the throat. “You fucking cunt.” He squeezes hard for just a moment, then releases me. “What did you do?”
I grab my throat, shocked, and shove at him again. “Don’t touch me!”
“What did you do?” Brady snarls at me, reaching as if he’d choke me again. “Tell me!”
“I didn’t do anything!” I protest, lying through my teeth. “I just went scavenging! You’d know that if you weren’t so fucking lazy! Is that why you’re mad? Because you weren’t doing your job and so now you’re taking it out on me?”
He backs off, his expression deadly. “Oh, I’m not mad, Scarface. I’m just trying to understand.”
I rub my throat, still more than a little shocked that he choked me. “Don’t ever touch me again.”
He snorts. “You’d love it and you know it. Where’d you go?” His tone is casual, almost unnervingly so.
I want to protest that no, I wouldn’t love it. I don’t want him to touch me at all. I can’t stand him. I look around us nervously, acutely aware of just how far we are from the fort. We’re a good hour or two away by bike, more by foot. If Brady hurt me…no one would be around to hear me scream. No one would be around to help. I’m utterly conscious of the violence brimming within him, of the fury barely kept in check, and I rub my throat again. “Like I said, I didn’t do anything wrong. I just went scavenging. That’s all I ever do.” I lift my chin, trying to seem defiant, even though I’m uneasy. “Isn’t that what we’re brought out here for? Scavenging?”
Brady just shrugs, his hands on his hips, expression deceptively cool. “You didn’t find a dragon?”
“Of course not,” I sputter. I sincerely hope he buys it. I’m going to keep selling that line until someone believes it. I did not find a dragon. I’ve never seen a dragon at all, nope, no siree, not me. I certainly didn’t wander into one’s den. I gesture at my bike. “Can we get going now, or are you going to throw another man-baby tantrum?”
He laughs, arching a brow at me. “Tantrum, huh? You don’t think I have the right to be mad after you lied to me?”
“I only lied to you a little,” I admit. “I just wanted to go back to the fort early. That’s all. Telling you I had cramps seemed like the easiest way to do it.”
“But no dragon,” Brady says flatly.
“No dragon.”
“You just wanted to return.” Again, an utterly flat statement, and I know he doesn’t believe me.
I’m going to have to sweeten my lie a bit to make it more believable. So I shrug. “Maybe I was meeting someone and needed to get back early. Does it matter? We’re both abusing the program. I don’t tell on you, and you don’t tell on me. Seems pretty simple where I’m concerned.”
He grins, and I relax a little. “Is that so, Scarface? You got a boyfriend?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. Does it matter?” I know my casual bluff will intrigue him more than outright denial, and I need him to buy my story. “Look. We both fucked up yesterday. Let’s just get to our assigned spot, get this day over with, and we keep each other’s secrets, all right?”
Brady stalks toward me again, and I resist the urge to protect my throat. I force myself to look him straight in the eye and lift my chin, not showing fear. He’s still smiling, but I don’t trust it. Then again, I never trust Brady. He’s like all of the militia—out to look out for himself. There’s the occasional idiot like Daniels, who thinks he’s making the world a better place, but there’s a lot more like Brady, who are just out to squeeze whatever they can from this life. Brady eyes me up and down, his expression thoughtful. “Who is it?”