Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I chuckled under my breath. “Whatever you say.”
“Junior, I mean it! I can’t walk around like this!”
“You can.” I shrugged. “You will.”
“Junior—”
“Just admit defeat. You tried to win, and instead, you just lost—embarrassingly. It’s going to take more than your hand to get me off, or do you forget?” Then I did turn toward her. “I’d rather drink poison than have you touch me ever again.”
Something sharp jabbed into my thigh. I winced and squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them and looked down.
And there was her knife, stuck in my thigh through my jeans, embedded at least a half-inch.
Perfect.
I nodded slowly. “Is that the Abandonato crest?”
“Beautiful, right?” She beamed then flipped her dyed golden hair in the air giving me a whiff of her cherry shampoo.
I jerked out the knife and handed it back to her. “Don’t be creepy and lick the blood off—that’s weird, even for you.”
She just rolled her eyes. “More like use it in a spell to make your favorite appendage fall off.”
“Your favorite appendage,” I grumbled. “Remember? Oh God Junior, right there, so good, it’s so—”
She clapped a hand over my mouth while a few students in front of us chuckled. “I get it, just. Stop. Talking.”
I nipped her hand with my teeth and grinned.
She smiled and looked away, down at her phone. “It shouldn’t be like this.”
“I’ll hate you for as long as we both shall live,” I uttered the mantra we’d been repeating to each other for years.
“Hate you,” she repeated in a soft voice. “For as long as we both shall live.”
And so, the hurt continued.
The pain followed swiftly, and I was suddenly grateful she’d stabbed me in the leg so I wouldn’t feel the daggers in my heart.
Thank God for small favors.
Chapter Three
Serena
I remember the first time I saw my dad cry. We were driving away from Uncle Chase’s house, I was small, like really small, and I remember him saying a bad word under his breath—it was the first time he’d cursed around me. I knew the word was bad because my mom made all the bosses, my uncles, put money in a swear jar every time it was said.
Dad drove for another twenty minutes, then pulled off to the side of the road. Without looking, he reached back and squeezed my foot, and then he put the SUV in park and turned. “You’re never dating.”
I giggled, what was dating anyway?
He shook his head; his handsome face pale, as a tear fell from his cheek down his chin. “Serena, sweetheart, I can’t let you go, I don’t think I would survive it.”
Ten years later, on my thirteenth birthday, he caught me kissing a boy from school behind the house, and the first thing he did was hold a gun to poor Dylan’s head and say, “You use tongue?”
Dylan didn’t pee his pants, but he looked ready to as he shook his head vehemently and then whimpered.
My dad lowered his weapon and growled, straight up growled, Dylan shrieked and ran off while I glared daggers at my father. “What was that for?”
“You’re not dating.” He clenched his teeth. “And you sure as hell shouldn’t be luring victims behind the house and kissing them!”
“Boys aren’t victims!” I yelled, stomping my foot.
He took one look at me, wiped a hand down his face and muttered, “When it comes to you? They may as well be.” He shook his head. “Hell, you’re only thirteen, and they notice you, they all notice you.”
“I like being noticed.”
The gun pointed in my direction. I scowled. “The point of this life, of this Family, sweetheart, is to become noticed only after you’ve won.”
“And how do I know if I’ve won?”
“The other person will no longer be breathing.” He shrugged. “Don’t tell your mom about Dylan; she’ll grab her gun.”
I sighed. “Mom’s not as terrifying as you.”
He snorted out a laugh. “Yeah okay, don’t ever let her hear you say that, she’s turned into a bloodthirsty woman.”
“Wonder whose fault that is.” I giggled as he pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head.
My dad was my protector.
He was my best friend.
He was my hero.
And I knew that every time I kissed Junior, I was betraying him, every time I touched Junior, wanted him—I was making small cuts with a knife into my dad’s heart.
But I couldn’t stop.
Not until I was forced to.
Not until Junior chose this life over me, over us, not until he stared at me while touching another girl and smiled.
I hated him beyond all reason.
“Class dismissed,” our professor suddenly said.
I’d been daydreaming that entire time.
Fantastic.
Junior shoved back his chair and gave me an annoyed look. “You gonna stare into space all day?”
“You gonna annoy me all day?” I snapped in a sing-song voice.
“Probably.” His full lips drew up into a smirk that had every single memory of his mouth on my body coming back full force. “Feeling a bit of… air princess?”