Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 63854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“What do you want?” I move to the side, putting as much space as possible between Joseph and me before I descend the stairs.
“Come on. Don’t you miss me? We finally get to have some time alone, without all those other guys . . .” The smile on Joseph’s face sends a chill down my spine.
I give him a frown and keep walking. Suddenly, I become acutely aware of my own movements. I feel self-conscious about the way I’m moving.
Joseph always used to say I moved too much when I walked, my arms flailing like one of the ducks he liked to scare at the park.
Well, I’m puffing myself up to look as strong and dignified as I can, but I’m worried Joseph’s just going to think I look ridiculous and not take me seriously.
“Say, how many guys are there, again?” Joseph asks in a low voice, in a way that tells me he already knows the answer.
“That’s none of your business.” I keep my eyes on my car as I continue past the landing and down the steps. Not much further now.
My feet kind of hurt because in my hurry this morning, I grabbed the wrong pair of shoes—the painful pair that still hasn’t stretched even after one year, despite what the salesperson told me when I bought it.
“Well, what if I make it my business?” Joseph follows me and gets so close I’m getting goosebumps.
I don’t know how I ever managed to share a bed with him. Just sharing the same set of stairs feels gross now.
“Leave me alone, Joseph. My attorney says I shouldn’t talk to you.”
“Your attorney, huh? Since when do you have your own attorney?” Joseph’s tone remains calm, but I can hear the hint of anger in his last three words. “Is it one of those guys?”
I ignore him and take out my car key from my bag. I don’t want any trouble. I just need to make a quick exit.
“Is it one of those five guys you bring home, huh?” Joseph asks—with more than just a hint of anger this time.
A few students glance at us, but it’s late enough in the afternoon that only a few stragglers are left on school grounds.
Oh, no. This place isn’t public enough.
What if Joseph does something completely insane and unhinged, and only a handful of scared, clueless teenagers are there to witness it?
“Hey, answer me.” Joseph lowers the volume of his voice. As he follows me from behind, he grabs my wrist and stops me from walking away.
“Let me go, Joseph. This is not going to look good on you in court. There are witnesses.” I gesture at the few students waiting for their rides on the sidewalk at the bottom of the stairs. They’re not even looking at us.
“Who? These kids?” Joseph asks with a mean sneer.
“Yes. And their parents, who are picking them up.” Right on cue, a car rolls up to the sidewalk. I glare at Joseph. “Let me go.”
“Okay,” he says, throwing his hands in the air.
I rush down the stairs as soon as I break free. My eyes focus on my car. Just a few more steps away now.
“Wow, you’re so sensitive today,” Joseph says. He doesn’t follow me, but he speaks in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “PMS? Oh, no. A period’s really going to put a damper on your little gang bang, huh?”
I turn around to glower at him, gripping the handrail so I don’t fall flat on my face—that would make me look ridiculous.
But right now, I’m more concerned about my reputation. What if some impressionable kids or their judgmental parents hear Joseph’s “gang bang” reference? Ashbourne’s not the kind of town that would just let go of something like that.
“What’s wrong?” Joseph taunts me as he walks a few steps down, clearly glad to see I’ve taken his bait. “You’re going to cry? You’re just helpless without your gang of pretty boys, aren’t you?”
I’m used to Joseph being mean to me, and I know I should turn back around and keep walking, but somehow the “pretty boys” comment rubs me the wrong way.
“What’s wrong with being pretty?” I ask him before I can stop myself. My anger’s taken over to the point where I feel like I’m not the one saying things anymore—I’m just a conduit through which my fury flows, burning hot as lava. “Any one of the Hunter brothers has accomplished more than you have. And let’s face it, you’re not even close to having a pretty face.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I realize the enormity of what I’ve done and the potential backlash Joseph’s going to inflict on me.
Still, I continue to maintain eye contact with Joseph, resisting the urge to flinch.
Is he going to berate me, pelting me with wild accusations loud enough for everyone to hear?