Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
It was time to bring Brecken into my life, bad decision or not.
Because no other path was going to work anymore. Not after learning that she’d been targeted by a madman.
Be his peace. You already can’t cook.
—Brecken’s secret thoughts
BRECKEN
Movement outside my classroom door had me glancing through the small safety glass window and grimacing.
Rupert.
He was glancing into my classroom—like he always did—and pissing me off.
“What’s the fact of the day?” a student asked as we were packing up.
I grinned, happy that they’d asked. Because today’s fact of the day was a doozie.
“So, you know what monarch butterflies look like?” I asked the group.
“Yes,” several of them answered in the affirmative.
“No, what do they look like?” one asked.
I pulled up a picture of my Zinnias that I’d planted this year and said, “This orange beauty is what is known as a monarch butterfly.”
“I haven’t seen very many of those this year,” Javier, the captain of the soccer team, admitted. “My grandfather owns Webber’s Landscaping, you know?”
I nodded. I did know. Javier’s grandfather was so awesome at what he did that he was contracted to landscape the Dallas Cowboys’ stadium as well as the Dallas Mavericks’.
I only knew that because Javier worked with his grandfather on the weekends and had lots to say about meeting “Dax” and “Luka.”
Being from Dallas, everyone knew who those two men were, and how awesome it would be to meet them.
“Yes, I do know,” I agreed.
“He’s been going on and on about how the monarch butterfly population is declining. He said that he just read a news article about how the butterfly population was down forty-three percent this year and how if we don’t do something about it, they could go extinct in the next ten years,” he said.
“That’s exactly right, and you stole my daily fact!” I pointed at him. “Who knows the only plant that monarch butterflies lay their eggs on?”
“Oh, I know this one, too.” Javier raised his hand.
“Oh, me! Pick me!” Roslyn cried out. “I know this one!”
I grinned and said, “Roslyn?”
“Milkweed!” she said.
“Right.” I nodded.
Javier looked at Roslyn with a contemplative look, as if he’d never seen her before and he liked what he saw.
I grinned at the interest in his eyes.
“Exactly right,” Javier drawled.
Despite the douchebag still lingering outside my room, I was all smiles by the time the last bell of the day rang.
The students in my class were slow to leave, as were all my students. I liked to think it was because of the fact that I was a cool teacher, and they liked my class.
But was more likely that most of them had practice after school that they really didn’t want to go to.
The moment Javier and Roslyn left, both of them talking about their plans for after school, I gathered up my things and counted to ten in my head.
Mostly because the asshole was now no longer standing outside my door but inside my classroom.
I continued to ignore him as I packed up what was left of my things.
Grabbing my knock-off Stanley—because Stanleys were expensive and the dupe versions were hardly different—I stood up and skirted around my desk.
Of course, Rupert was standing in such a way that he was blocking my access to get out.
“Excuse me,” I said dispassionately.
Rupert didn’t move, and I could tell he had no plans to.
But then another voice, this one like hot honey, drawled from somewhere behind Rupert.
“That didn’t sound like history,” the dark and dangerous man said from behind me.
I jumped and placed my hand to my heart as I glanced around Rupert to find Shasha leaning against the far hallway wall as if he had all the time in the world to wait. “Oh, you scared the crap out of me.”
He didn’t apologize, just waited for me to answer him.
Rupert stepped out of the way and glared at Shasha, giving me my opening to leave.
I hurried past Rupert, stomach turning at the familiar aftershave that he used, and completely dismissed him as I went straight to the man that kept contradicting himself.
“I’m pretty passionate about saving the insect population,” I informed him. “With us building so much,” I gestured to the world around me. “We’re decimating them one by one. It’s so sad that we’re at so low numbers to the point of possible extinction in the next few years.”
“Why are you so passionate about this?” he wondered.
“It’s just heartbreaking that all of them are dying off. Cars and suburban metropolises? They’re making it impossible for them to rejuvenate their numbers. The more we build, the less they have. I guess I’m just looking to spread the awareness.”
“Roslyn has become pretty interested in the insect population herself,” he said. “I was just wondering if it was a fad that was going around the schools.”
I nearly laughed.
The reason she was interested likely had more to do with a certain boy than the insect population.