Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Silently compelled by some invisible force buried within me, so deep I know there is no removing it.
No …
My face falls instantly, a sick, twisted feeling rolls over in my stomach as a pulsing knot grows thick in my throat, blocking my airway.
My blood turns to ice and then stone, and I must begin to shake as my sister steps in close, the warmth of her palms jolting me as they wrap around my biceps.
“Oh my god, Rocklin.” Her hands move up and down my forearms. “Stop.”
My throat stretches and stretches, the veins in my neck bulging but with no relief.
My heart beats wildly until I feel it heavy at my temples.
“You’re not even breathing! Get your shit together,” she hisses.
My head snaps to hers and I glare, but my sister glares right back.
She nods, my teeth grind together, and I force air into my lungs in short, harsh gasps. After a few seconds, the tightness in my chest settles.
“Hold your chin up and knock this shit off right now because Dad is coming.” She rushes the last part, dipping her fingers into her drink and swiping them along my neck for shock factor.
It works. I jerk, practically gasping as air pushes its way into my lungs and I throw my glass back in one go.
My body heats and I know his eyes are on me, that he found me, but, of course, he did. I’m the reason he’s here.
As I think that, I realize while it is true … it also isn’t, and before I can stop myself before my father reaches me, I spin on my heels, marching right for the boy in black.
His face is sharp lines, soft scars, and utterly unreadable, but the brunette on his arm isn’t.
She smirks and smiles and bats her fake lashes at everyone she walks past, oblivious to what’s coming toward her, but he sees me. I’d argue I’m all he sees, even with the beautiful bitch at his side. Holding on to him. Touching him.
Anger licks across my spine, begging me to unstrap the knife at my hip and send it sailing straight into her chest, but I manage to refrain, pressing forward.
The closer I get, the more those crystal eyes flare, a deep dark dare gleaming within them, wishing me to do whatever the hell it is I’m about to do. Waiting for me to approach him, to come to him.
To claim him for all to see.
Wait, what?!
I jerk to a stop, freezing in the center of the room, and his eyes narrow.
What the hell am I doing?!
His chin lowers in warning, and he takes urgent, giant steps toward me.
My eyes fly wide as he grows closer, but my feet won’t move.
No, no, no … not here. Don’t do it. What the fuck is wrong with me?
He’s but ten feet away when my hands are caught. I’m spun and dragged halfway across the room, muscles tense, jaw clenched, Bronx and Delta whispering shit in my ears I can’t hear. As quickly as they come to me, we’re locked in the lavatory. They whirl me around and push me onto the tufted, round couch, glaring down at me.
“Do not even think about it,” Bronx warns. “Not tonight.”
“I can’t believe he’s here.” Delta looks between us. “He must be crazy.”
“He’s fucking insane!” I bury my face in my hands, snatching a pillow, and scream into it, keeping my face buried there while I count to fucking ten. Finally, I pull in a deep breath and I look up at my girls.
“What the fuck, I mean, right? What the fuck? He’s here, like seriously? All the deleting we did of the freaking surveillance, as stealth as I’ve been, hiding him away, and he shows up here? Of all places?”
“Girl, please. He was in The Game Room, in the school, and in the manor. He isn’t worried about being any kind of stealthy. The boy gives no fucks.”
“Maybe he’ll lie low, just watch?” Delta, the voice of reason. “People might think he’s simply her plus-one.”
Her plus-freaking-one? He’s not her anything!
My face must give me away, as Delta yelps when Bronx elbows her in the ribs.
I jump to my feet, remembering why my heels clicked in his direction in the first place. “How the fuck did Chloe Carpo get a ticket?”
“Her dad runs security for that Brayshaw family Bass works for. A trio of fine-ass brothers, from what I heard.” Bronx moves to the mirror, fluffing her curls. “Calvin said he extended the invite as a business courtesy, something about his daughter royally fucking up with the Brays and in need of an escape.”
“Those brothers have been keeping him really busy.” I share. “Is Chloe one of theirs?”
She raises a dark brow. “Do you really think she’d be here with the help if she were?”