Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
“Jean,” Abby said quietly. “Stop.”
Jean put Jasmine’s letter back and moved the notebook away from Abby when she held out a hand for it. She frowned in disapproval but didn’t snatch it away from him, so he was able to turn a few more pages. Now his fingers moved to each angry epithet, tracing the letters like he could feel their curves against his skin. The third letter he found was short and to the point, messy block lettering that hit twice as hard when he saw Grayson had signed it: Have fun whoring your way to the top of another line-up, you useless bitch. #12
For a moment he felt teeth on his throat. Jean swallowed hard against a rush of bile that left his mouth burning and slapped the notebook closed. Abby snatched it away from him immediately and returned it to the box. It took only seconds to fold its flaps closed, and she carried the box to her closet with quick steps.
“That’s mine,” he said, in a voice he didn’t recognize. “Give it back.”
Abby put it on the shelf and came back to him without a word. She was staring down at him, waiting for him to look at her, but he kept his gaze on her closet. Jean blinked and felt hot breath on his cheeks, blinked and remembered the weight of his racquet as he broke his own fingers for Riko’s amusement, blinked and drowning I’m—
He didn’t realize he’d reached for his own throat until Abby seized his wrist hard enough to hurt. “Jean.”
“You never should have brought me here. You never should have interfered. You should have just—”
“Let them kill you?” Abby asked. “No.”
“They never touched me.”
“Stop lying to me.”
Jean pulled against her grip. “A Fox wouldn’t understand.”
“Probably not,” Abby said. “My Foxes chose to fight back.”
Jean’s arms were healed, but his skin still remembered the feel of rope digging in. He tried yanking out of her grip again, but Abby wouldn’t let him go. He settled for clawing lines into his forearm instead until she grabbed hold of that hand too.
He’d been furious with his parents for sending him to Evermore, but he’d still hoped to make the best of it. He’d loved Exy then, fiercely and violently, and learning from the man who’d created the sport was the honor and opportunity of a lifetime. Reality reared its ugly face only hours after landing in West Virginia. Finding out he was little more than Riko’s dog outside of practices had him lashing out with all the youthful rage he could muster.
For five months he’d spit and cursed and fought. For five months he’d dragged himself off the ground no matter what violence and cruelty Riko heaped on him, and then one day he simply didn’t have the strength. It made no sense to fight. Riko was a Moriyama, and he was a Moreau. The sooner he understood his place in the world, the easier it would be for him. The pain wouldn’t stop, but knowing he deserved it would make it easier to bear. He could live with that; he had no choice.
He was furious at Abby for implying he’d never tried to fight, and more furious at the Foxes for keeping it together when he’d broken. They hadn’t been up against Riko, except two of them had, and both Nathaniel and Kevin had walked away.
coward washout traitor sellout reject whore
“Fuck you,” Jean said quietly, then louder: “Fuck you.”
“Please talk to Betsy.”
“Give me back my box,” Jean said. “It wasn’t yours to take.”
Abby got up and left without another word. Jean waited until he heard the distant murmur of her voice down the hall before pushing himself to his feet. He made a careful lap around the room to the closet. He could reach the shelf easily enough, though the weight of the box sent aching pressure through his chest. Jean set his package on the mattress, breathed through the soreness in his lungs, and settled by his pillow again.
Since Abby had packed his notebooks last, they were on top now. Jean’s stomach roiled as he pulled his econ notes out again. Thinking maybe he’d just been unlucky with the first one he’d opened, he thumbed through the next few notebooks. The sight of bold ink said they were all a complete loss, and he held his breath like he could keep his churning stomach under control a little longer.
He was not at all surprised when the Foxes’ shrink stopped by a half-hour later. She closed the bedroom door on the way in and made herself comfortable at his side. Jean let her calm voice go in one ear and out the other as he slowly made his way through the first notebook. She was close enough she couldn’t miss the bold messages scribbled on every odd page, but he didn’t look to see if she was trying to read his letters over his shoulder.