Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
"You're acting like a fucking caveman!" I scream. "How did you even find me, Jasper? Did you follow me?"
Uttering the words sends me into a tailspin. I realize I don't want to hear his answer, and I let out a sob, waving him off when he tries to reach for me.
"He was going to take advantage of you," Jas gets out through gritted teeth. "That guy is bad news."
"Well, you seem to be missing something," I hiss. "Whether or not I want to talk to him is my decision, not yours, you brute."
“Is that what you think?”
“That’s what it is.”
“How drunk are you?”
“That’s none of your business.”
We glare at one another and I run my hands through my hair. I'm trembling, and I'm fucking cold with my light coat and these unbearably uncomfortable heels showing off my legs.
"You don’t get to barge into my life and disappear as you wish, Jasper. Where were you? Who was the guy in front of my apartment? Why the hell was he looking for you?"
He shrugs off his leather jacket and putting it around my shoulders. I don't fight him. I need the warmth.
"He's my employer," Jas grits out. "I owe him."
"You owe him what?"
"My life." His voice is so firm and steady it makes me wonder just how true his statement is. It seems like he isn't lying. "I'm in debt to him – forever. His family saved my life."
"Okay. Care to elaborate on that?"
"No." His answer leaves no room for questions, making me sigh in frustration.
"You know what, Jas?" I raise my hands in defeat. "If that's the way you want it, fucking fine. Have it your way. Don't tell me anything. Just get the hell out of my life. I don't want these secrets and this bullshit bringing me down any more than it already has."
I’m so tired of waiting for him when it’s obviously going nowhere, and I hate myself for being glad that he came to find me. My moods are dangerously controlled by him, and I can’t have that anymore.
I turn around, but he grabs my hand, his hot skin enveloping my cold one, and I'm embarrassed because I hesitate before pulling away from him.
"You're not leaving me, Petal," Jas says.
"It’s not your decision to make.” I turn over my shoulder to look at him. "This could have been something life-changing, Jas. You just had to fuck it up."
I peel his jacket off my shoulders and give it back to him while he stares me down.
"You'll be cold," he mutters.
"I don't care." I turn around and start walking away from him, the sound of my heels on the concrete ringing in my head.
I feel hot tears burning my eyes before I even make it around the block. The sharp pain of Jasper's behavior sends me running down the street, trying to swallow down the sobs threatening to rip out of my chest.
I don't notice anything or anyone until I'm a block and a half away, still preoccupied with my own thoughts and sobs. But then I feel it – the creepy feeling of being watched, of a pair of eyes on the back of my neck.
I remember the open window. I remember the spider, the missing glass. And for the first time, I allow myself to wonder whether someone's... following me.
The mere idea is so disturbing I gulp. But what other explanation could there be – apart from me losing my damn mind?
After that realization, I keep glancing over my shoulder, the hairs sticking on the back of my neck. Aside from the shadows and the glow of the streetlights, there’s nothing. Swallowing the uneasy sensation, I continue making my way home.
When I'm at the front door, I fumble with my keys so much I drop them. I curse softly, bending down to pick them up. When I do, I finally see him – the dark figure standing in the corner.
He's wearing a leather jacket.
Something takes over me then. I'm not sure whether it's madness or foolishness or simply being drunk, but I storm in the direction of the man watching me, and when he breaks into a run, I do the same. He dodges a car and I follow suit, the driver honking at us angrily as they speed down the road.
"You!" I scream. "Wait!"
I expect him to continue running, to tire me and then disappear – which wouldn’t be so hard considering I’m drunk. However, he stops abruptly, making me skid to a sudden halt. He turns around and the face that greets me under the streetlight makes me laugh bitterly.
"What are you doing, Jasper?"
"Making sure you're fucking safe.” He sounds calm, unaffected as if this is an every day occurrence. "You should be saying thank you, Petal."
"You're following me.” All pieces fall into place and I gasp. “Have you been following me all along, making me paranoid in my own skin?”