Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“I’m that brand of crazy, too. So let’s not test each other. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“And, Gareth?”
“Hmm.”
“You’ll communicate properly from here on out. I will not stand for these tantrums in the future. Are we clear?”
“Okay.” He swallows thickly, his eyes softening. “What’s your relationship with Yulian anyway?”
“He’s my student.”
“That’s all?”
“I helped his dad in the States, and he asked me to look out for him.”
“Do you have to look out for him?”
“Not really. Why are you asking? Jealous?”
“I don’t like it when he throws his arm around your shoulders. I can’t even do that in public, so he shouldn’t either.” He gulps. “You’re the one who asked me to communicate, so I’m just doing that right now.”
“Fine. I’ll make sure to not allow him to do that again.”
“Really?”
“Really. You communicated properly and asked nicely, so you deserve a reward.”
He smiles, his cheeks creasing, and his lips remain frozen in a soft smile as his lids grow heavy and close again.
As I hold him until he falls asleep with some cheesy drama playing in the background, I think of all the ways my plans are fucked up beyond repair.
And I’m not even that sad about it.
Forget about what I came here to do.
I need to tuck Gareth safely away from those in my entourage.
I need Jethro to prepare me a gadget.
24
GARETH
QuietRage
How is it going with your man?
TooPrettyForThisMess
He’s not MY man. I still dislike him sometimes, but apparently, that’s when I’m sex deprived because it takes being fucked to exhaustion for me to fold.
BWAHAHA we’ve come a long way from ‘I’d never get fucked’ to ‘I’m being fucked to exhaustion.’
Don’t push it, man.
Hey, I’m just glad you’re having fun, my dude.
You’re not? Having fun, I mean?
I never will.
Istare at Vaughn’s texts in class, smirking. So, yeah, QuietRage is V.
Speak of a small goddamn world.
I figured that out shortly after we took in Moka about a month ago—or Kayden did, minor details. The little demon only sleeps on top of me and likes me better than him anyway. He’s just the spare human according to the internet.
Anyhow, V kind of gave himself away when he mentioned that he had a girlfriend for years and thought he was happy with her and even thought of marrying her one day, but then she cheated with this guy, and ever since then, he can’t stop obsessing.
About the guy—not the girlfriend. He’s even considering transferring to another university in a ‘whole-ass other country’ that, apparently, he avoided because of this guy—Yulian, duh—even though he had to separate from his friends in the process. Something about hating the fuck out of the guy’s guts, but he’s still being drawn to him anyway.
Same.
Ever since our first convo, we’ve been texting daily and checking on each other’s clusterfuck of a gay awakening which sort of grew into a friendship. I like that we’re both going through the same shit, and I prefer the cloak of anonymity to talk freely—which I’m sure he does, too.
I also speak to him in reality often as well, mostly to warn him. From the little research I’ve done on Yulian, he’s sort of a basket case that should be locked up. But who am I to judge?
U think you’ll stay with him for long?
Idk. I’ll stab him if he tries to leave, though.
You’re falling for him, huh?
I stare at his text, my chest experiencing that shitty ache again.
Nope. I don’t do feelings.
Bro, I’m telling u this bcz I care about u and feel a weird camaraderie, but u kind of do. Normal people don’t think about stabbing their sex buddies if they think they’ll leave. Unless they’re a psychopathic narcissist, which is cool if u are. Not judging. But over these past few weeks, u said you’re having fun even when fucking isn’t involved, and your favorite thing is aftercare and when he gives you affection, right? So maybe u need to analyze the ‘no feeling’ statement further.
“Mr. Carson.” The too familiar deep, calm voice pulls me out of my reverie. “I hope whatever you're reading on your phone is more important than your education. If you’re done paying attention, feel free to leave. We wouldn’t want to waste any more of your time.”
His eyes are dark and stormy. Turbulent, even.
My fingers tighten on the phone as I glare back.
He’s been a major asshole since I obviously won the trial earlier. He gave the jury one hell of a critique for their reasoning, and me? Well, he dismantled me.
“Mr. Carson, your defense was superficial at best, and you tremendously failed to grasp the gravity of the case. It wasn’t just about your legal arguments, but about the human element and the empathy you should have shown for the victim. You came off as cold-blooded, indifferent, and menacing, particularly during cross-examination.
“You didn’t approach the victim with precision or care and wielded a sledgehammer where a scalpel was needed. Your tactics were harsh, dismissive, and reeked of arrogance, as though the nuances of this case could be handled with aggression or by seducing members of the jury with your intellect and charm. But rape cases, especially ones with this level of complexity, aren’t about flexing your power or stroking your ego. They’re about understanding the victim's trauma, their fear, and the lasting impact on their lives. You missed that entirely.