Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 33412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
I sigh and shrug it off, waltzing around the grass, trying to find something interesting to poke like a frog. But when I walk around the bush, I find something way more interesting.
Jill Baas is crouched down near a creek outside the premises wearing a really strange fluffy red dress that looks handmade.
What the hell is she doing there?
I quickly make my way there, glancing over my shoulder to ensure no one sees me because our parents told us not to go behind the fenced-off area. But I’m not the only one who never listens to the rules.
As I approach her, I sneak a peek over her shoulder. She’s holding something in her hands, but I can’t make out what it is.
“What have you got there?”
“Ah!” She shrieks so loudly that she falls down on her butt. “Oh my God, don’t scare me like that!”
I snort. “Chicken.”
She smashes her fist on my foot, and I jump up and down in pain. “Fuck! Why’d you have to do that?!”
“That’s what you get for scaring me,” she retorts. “Look at what you did!” She points at something in front of her, something flailing around in the creek.
“What is it?” I ask, getting up close.
“A bunny. It got stuck, and I almost had it pulled out until you scared it away,” she hisses at me.
“A bunny?” I say, throwing her a look. “That’s why you’re behind the fence? Because of some bunny?”
“It’s not just a bunny.” She gets up and puts her hand against her side. “And it deserves help.”
I shrug. “Bunnies can swim.”
“Not when their paws might be broken,” she spits back. “And if you’re not going to help me, back off and leave me alone.”
Her sudden spunk shuts me up momentarily as she returns her attention back to the bunny. She reaches for it with her bare hands, but it’s out of reach. The bunny is stuck on a branch a little farther up ahead, squealing for help.
I take another glance over my shoulder to make sure no one is looking before I push Jill aside and lean in with my stick, poking the bunny.
“Hey!” Jill yells, trying to push me away too.
Right then, the bunny falls into the water, and I hold the stick in front of the water flow until it stops the bunny.
“Don’t hurt it!” Jill tugs at my pants, but I shove her away. “Asshole.”
In a quick move, I flick the stick forward to the edge of the creek and lift the bunny from the water. It’s soaked and crying, and I hold it close to inspect its paw. There’s a wire around its paw that kept it from moving properly, so I rip it off and check the wound. No blood.
“There. It’s fine,” I say.
When I turn to Jill, her eyes are sparkling, and there’s a glossy glow on her face. “Thank you.”
I frown. “I didn’t do it for you.”
She grins and licks her lips as she looks away. “Fine. As long as the bunny is safe.”
And somehow, that makes me hate her even more.
Why is she so nice to literally everything and everyone around her?
Why do I even care?
When she tries to grab the bunny, I move away from her.
The look on her face immediately turns sour. “Luca … C’mon. Let me have it.”
“No.”
She freezes. “I found it first.”
I clutch the bunny closer. “And I saved it.”
Her nostrils flare, and her eyes almost spew lightning at me. “Luca …” She growls. “Give. Me. The. Bunny.”
“No.” I pick up the stick and use it as a sword, defending myself. “Finders keepers. It’s my bunny now.”
Now I’ve really set her off, and her expression is nothing short of amazing.
She almost explodes. “Luca!”
My mouth bursts into a devious grin. “Come and get it.” And I run away as hard as I can with that stupid bunny in my hand, darting through the grass, running on nothing but pure adrenaline.
Because to me, nothing is funnier than pissing off Jill Baas.
And taking whatever happiness she has and making it mine.
Jill
Age 18
* * *
“You’ve got the money?” a man in a dirty trench coat mouths to my father.
My mother’s hand clenches tightly around mine while she holds Jasmine’s in her other as we all watch the men from an appropriate distance. My father wouldn’t want us to get too involved yet. It’s still his business, after all.
Not any kind of business I’d ever want to be involved in, but my mother still forced me to come so I can “learn the ropes.” And in this family, choice doesn’t exist.
“It’s all in here,” my father says, as one of our guards hands over the soaked briefcase.
The businessman flicks his fingers, and one of his guards approaches my father to take the case from him. But my eyes can’t help skim over the gun hidden underneath his belt buckle. My stomach almost flips over at the sight.