Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“Let go of me!” Wren whisper yells, getting the attention of some of the students around us.
“Mind your own business,” I order, and everyone immediately looks away.
“You are hurting me,” she complains with venom in her voice, her sharp nails digging into my hand.
I lean into her and whisper into the shell of her ear, “Oh, little bird, I haven’t even started hurting you yet.” I squeeze a little harder, wondering if I will leave some bruises on her creamy legs.
Her nails break my skin, a drop of blood running down my palm as I squeeze her thigh even tighter, making her whimper in response, her beautiful face scrunched up in pain at my tight grip.
“Tell me you’ll do the project,” I grit through my teeth.
“Fuck you,” she grits back through hers.
I tighten my grip once more, knowing that I will leave a bruise at this point. She winces in pain, scratching the top of my hand like a furious little kitten.
“Say you’ll do the project, and I’ll let you go,” I offer.
A few moments of silence pass. “Fine, I’ll do the stupid project,” she finally whines, and I let go of her thigh immediately.
She pulls her whole body away from me, scooting over to the other side of her chair, and tries to put as much space as she can between us. I, of course, can’t allow her such freedom. Grabbing the bottom of the chair, I scoot it all the way back next to mine, making a loud scratchy noise in the process.
The professor shoots me a displeased look, but when he realizes who made the sound, his expression changes, and he chooses to ignore the interruption. Smart man.
Leaning in once again, I say in a hushed voice, “I didn’t say you can have your personal space. I think you need a reminder of who is in charge here.”
“You need a reminder of who isn’t.”
Anger flares inside of me at her defiance. Anger and excitement.
“Listen up, little bird. No one cares about you, matter of fact, everyone hates you and if you haven’t gotten it through your head yet, I’m in charge here. I own this school and the people inside, including you. I’ve decided as long as you walk these halls, I’ll make your life hell and there is nothing you can do about it.”
“I’m not scared of you!” she says, a little too loudly, getting the unwanted attention of the professor.
“Miss Delaney, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t interrupt my class,” he spits.
Wren’s mouth pops open in shock before closing again without a word. She looks like a fish out of water and all I can do is grin at her.
Her hands ball into tiny fists on her lap before she leans into me and whispers this time, “I’m not scared of you.”
Keeping my voice low and gravelly, I answer. “Oh, but you should be. You should be very afraid.”
She swallows, her delicate throat moving, and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like having my hand wrapped around it, squeezing her until I control her every breath, until her life is in my hand.
That’s what I think about for the rest of the class. My hands on her, playing with her like she is a shiny new toy, scratching her, biting her, marking her smooth skin to remind her who owns her.
“That’s it for today,” the professor drags me out of my delicious daydream with his announcement. As soon as we are dismissed, Wren jumps up and tries to scoot past me. I block her.
“Can you please just let me through?” she asks, annoyed.
“Your words are nice, but your tone is not very genuine.”
She throws her backpack on, spins around and walks toward the back of the class, where she ends up climbing over two seats to get to the exit. I watch her every move, laughing when she almost falls over her own feet. If I didn’t have to get Tia from the bus, I would follow her to her next class just for fun. But my sister comes first.
I can play with my new toy tomorrow.
5
WREN
I’m starting to believe my life doesn’t belong to me anymore.
Walking out of psych class and finding Briggs’s smirking face staring down at me is enough to make my stomach clench until bile floods my throat. He was waiting there when I walked into the classroom, too. Was he standing here all that time? Just waiting for me?
One thing I’m not going to do: ask him. I don’t want to say a word. I don’t even want to acknowledge him. I’m afraid I’ll never be able to stop once I start. Why is he doing this? What is the point? What do I have to do to make him stop? Right now, there’s another question at the front of my mind. Doesn’t he have anything better to do? He should be in classes, right? How does he have the time to shadow me like this?