Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Fine.” She sighs, pulling me in for a hug. “I’ll be gone by the time you wake up, so tell me you love me.” She pats my hair as she holds on to me.
“I love you,” I assure her. “Have a safe trip.”
When she leaves, I sprint up the stairs and toward the school. Thankfully, the doors are still unlocked, so I decide to go through the hall and out the back entrance instead of around the perimeter to shave off time. My wet shoes squeak against the hall floor as I jog down the hall, and when I push the back doors open, I spot Holden’s Rover pulling out of the lot.
“Shit,” I hiss.
I pull out my phone to text him, but I catch movement to my left in my peripheral vision, and I look over to see Christian and his dad, Samuel, having what appears to be a heated discussion next to Samuel’s Mercedes. I slip behind a pillar to keep from being seen. Samuel’s face is centimeters from Christian’s, and although I can’t hear what he’s saying, I know they’re not discussing the weather. Christian’s hands are balled into fists at his side, his spine ramrod straight, as if it’s taking everything in him to not react.
Samuel’s hands shoot out to fist Christian’s collar, and then he’s throwing him up against the side of the car. Jesus. I wasn’t expecting that. Apparently, he isn’t as genial as he seems. Christian says something, and suddenly, Samuel’s fist cocks back and smashes into the side of his face. I gasp, slapping a hand over my mouth, stomach churning. He does it again and again, and when Christian slides down the side of the car, landing in a puddle on the ground, Samuel kicks him in the stomach, causing him to groan in pain.
I don’t think. I just react. I charge toward them without considering the consequences. All I know is that if I don’t step in, Christian could get seriously injured. Christian spots me first, his eyes widening as if warning me to stay out of sight. Even if I wanted to listen, it’s too late, because Samuel takes notice, turning to look at me over his shoulder with a crazed look in his eyes. He takes a step back from Christian, smoothing out his suit jacket and schooling his features as I drop to my knees to help him up.
“Get away from me,” Christian grumbles, clutching his stomach.
I frown, trying to pull him to his feet anyway, but he jerks out of my grasp and stands on his own. Blood drips from his lip and he swipes the back of his hand across his mouth. Rising to my feet, I look between them. Adrenaline has my heart pounding in my ears, apprehension creeping up my spine at the way Samuel’s looking at me.
“Look what you’ve done,” Samuel says to Christian before turning back for me. He advances on me, and instinctively, I take a step back. Suddenly, I’m not feeling so brave.
“Dad,” Christian says, but he ignores it, closing the distance between us.
“As you can imagine, it’s been a bit of an emotional night.” His voice is calm but deadly, and I slip my hand into my jacket pocket, gripping my self-defense keychain in the shape of kitty ears that Grey gave me a couple years back. “It would be a shame if you had the wrong impression of me.”
I shake my head, slipping my fingers through the holes of the keychain, ready to use it if need be, but hoping like hell that it doesn’t come to that.
“This is family business, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how imperative it is that it stays that way.”
I look over at Christian whose eyes beg me to back down, but I straighten my shoulders, steeling my voice. “Just leave him alone and I won’t say anything.”
Samuel’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead as he chuckles, looking back at Christian. When he turns back to face me, the amusement is gone, replaced with barely contained rage. “Pretty bold of you to tell me how to handle my son.”
I swallow hard as he takes another threatening step toward me.
“Dad!” Christian yells, and this time his voice is firmer. Samuel pauses. “She won’t tell anyone. I’ll handle it.”
Samuel runs a hand through his hair to smooth it back in place before turning back around for his car. “Clean up your own mess this time,” he spits, stubbing a finger into Christian’s chest. Without another word from either of them, he’s gone, leaving Christian and me alone in the parking lot.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Are you?”
“I’m fine. Listen, Thayer and Holden…” he trails off, shoving his hands into his pants pockets.
“They don’t know,” I guess, finishing his sentence. He nods. I start to wonder how something like this can go unnoticed, but then I realize that I never once suspected anything either and I practically lived with the guy. Christian stays at Whittemore so often he has his own room there, and I never noticed any bruises or injuries.