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)
Pounding at the front door makes me jump, but then I see a stunned Holden standing in front of the shattered picture window. I hurry over to unlock the door and Thayer storms in, surveying the place.
“You okay?” he asks, looking me over.
Still in shock, all I can do is nod.
“I’m going to check the woods,” Holden says before he takes off, and then Thayer’s pulling me into him, prying the extinguisher from my fingers until it falls to the floor.
“You sure you’re okay?” His palms cup my face, forcing me to look at him.
I nod again and his fingers curl around the nape of my neck as he bends down to give me a quick kiss on the lips.
“Did you see anyone?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I was just making something to eat and heard the window shatter,” I say, gesturing toward the huge hole in my window. “And then I called you.”
“You didn’t call the cops? Or anyone else?”
“Just you. I figured you were closer—” I start to explain, but he cuts me off.
“No, you did good. This is good.”
He steps away from me, feet crunching through the broken glass, and then he’s crouching down, plucking something from the floor, inspecting it.
“What is it?”
“It’s a piece of a beer bottle.”
“Nothing,” Holden announces, appearing in the doorway before he walks over to Thayer. “Whoever it was is long gone.” He flicks his chin toward the glass pinched between Thayer’s fingers. “Molotov cocktail?”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Thayer agrees. They exchange a look that puts me even more on edge.
“What does that mean?”
“It means this was no accident.”
I sit cross-legged on the couch as Thayer and Holden stand in front of me.
“You’re going to tell me this is Taylor’s work, too?” Thayer says to Holden who shakes his head.
“No. The other shit, maybe. But this is too far, even for her.”
“Maybe it was just a random prank,” I offer, knowing damn well it wasn’t. But the alternative freaks me out too much to consider. They both pin me with a glare, and I hold up my hands in mock surrender. “Or maybe not.”
“Besides Taylor, is there anyone else who has something against you?” This comes from Thayer.
“Just you guys,” I quip, but my joke falls flat.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Shayne,” Holden snaps.
I draw back, surprised by how upset he seems to be.
“You’re staying here until your mom gets back,” Thayer says.
“What?” I stand, the blanket falling from my lap onto the floor. “No. If you didn’t notice, there’s a giant hole in my living room. I can’t leave it like that. And I need to call my mom.” Something I’m dreading.
“We’ll have your window fixed, but you’re not staying there alone. In fact, you’re not even going to take a piss alone until we figure out who’s behind this.”
“Thayer.” That’s ridiculous.
“This isn’t some prank, Shayne. Someone tried to hurt you. Do you get that? Do you realize what could’ve happened? A couple more seconds and the flames would’ve hit those curtains and your whole house would’ve gone up in flames. With you inside.”
“He’s right,” Holden says, arms folded over his chest. “We already buried one sibling.”
Okay, just punch me in the gut, why don’t you.
“What about your dad?”
“He stays at his apartment in the city. Now that the memorial has passed, he has no reason to come around. And if he does, then fuck him. What’s he going to do?”
“Tell my mom,” I state the obvious.
“Fuck her, too,” Thayer spits. “Let’s not act like either one of them has ever bothered to be around for their kids.”
I want to argue that my mom is there for me in the only way that she can be, that everything she does is to give Grey and me a good life. But it’s not the time. And he does have a point. Regardless of reasoning, they’re largely absent from our lives. We’ve always taken care of ourselves. It’s what we do.
“Fine.” I fall back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over me.
“We’ll take you to grab some shit after school tomorrow,” Thayer says, and then he’s walking toward his room without so much as a goodbye.
“I’ll grab you a pillow,” Holden offers, scratching the back of his neck.
“Thanks.”
He’s only gone for a minute, and I’m already starting to doze off, my head resting against the arm of the couch. It’s as if all the adrenaline wore off, leaving me completely drained. My mind goes crazy trying to process tonight’s events, but my body gives up.
Holden returns, handing me the pillow. He hesitates like he’s going to say something, but reconsiders. “Night.”
“Night,” I say, scooting down and stuffing the pillow under my head.
I don’t know how much time passes when I’m startled awake by someone lifting me off the couch. My heart hammers in my chest as my disoriented brain attempts to wake up.