Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Then she shouts, “You bitch! Don’t you dare!”
Stopping, I turn back to face her. “Don’t I dare what? Tell the truth?”
With angry tears gleaming in her eyes, Charity stares daggers at me, clearly wishing my death.
When I don’t flinch, she stands up quickly from her chair and says, “I hate you.”
I watch her march off, storming into her bedroom, and wonder how we came to this.
Over a stupid shirt, no less.
When she reappears, she stomps right up to me and throws a wad of cloth at my face. “Here! You can wear this!”
Peeling the fabric off my face, I examine it.
It’s not the Chanel shirt. Soft, silky, and red, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this shirt before.
“Did you wear this?” I ask, hoping she’ll answer truthfully.
Her upper lip lifts. “No, it’s Allison’s. She left it here the last time she was over. And before you ask, no, I haven’t washed it. Happy now?”
Happy?
Happy to wear yet another person’s used shirt?
Not even.
But I nod my head in acquiescence.
“Good,” she says, and I turn away, thinking that’s the last of it.
But her next words cause me to nearly trip and fall on my face.
“Because I’m done following the rules when you keep breaking them.”
Me? Break the rules?
Surely, she must be talking to someone else.
Whipping around, I see Charity staring expectantly at me.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
I’ve never broken the rules. Not once in my life.
The rules are the only thing that keep me breathing.
Charity rolls her eyes in disgust. “Don’t play coy. You know exactly what I mean.”
Still confused, I say, “I’m sorry, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“You can stop treating me like I’m stupid,” she snaps. “I’m not stupid. And I have ears. I’ve heard you.”
“Heard me?”
“Yes, I’ve heard you, and I’ve kept my mouth shut. Because, unlike you, I’m not a fucking snitch. But I’m done, I’m so fucking done.”
It takes me another few seconds to figure out what she could have possibly heard, but when I do I’m overwhelmed with mortification.
She’s heard me when I had those dreams…
Oh God.
How loud was I?
“I don’t know how you’re doing it,” she goes on. “I don’t know how you’re sneaking him in, but if you’re going to have guys over, I’m going to do it, too.”
“I haven’t had a guy—” I try to say in my defense.
But she immediately cuts me off. “Stop lying! I told you, I’m not stupid. I heard you. I heard you talking to someone.”
I shake my head in denial, and Charity makes a loud sound of disgust.
“Oh stop, you’re just embarrassing yourself at this point. We both know you’re not the innocent little girl you’re pretending to be.”
My cheeks burning with heat, I’m utterly speechless as she goes off on me.
“You were born vampire bait, and that’s okay, you didn’t have a choice. I get that. We can’t help what we are. But it’s not fair that you get to force your way into my house, and I have to change my whole life to accommodate you.”
Vampire bait.
Out of everything she said, those two words cut the deepest and hurt the most.
I’m well aware that there are many in the Order who believe that those of us bearing the mark are simply that—bait to attract vampires.
Bait that puts the Order and all the followers in danger.
In their eyes, we’re not even human.
We’re a waste of resources.
Usually when someone in the Order calls me vampire bait though they do it in a whisper behind my back.
Rarely is it slung so boldly at my face.
“Anyway, I know your dirty little secret.” She frowns at me, not giving me a chance to respond. “So, if you tell on me, I’ll tell on you. Got it?”
Spinning on her heel, she walks back into her room and slams the door.
Assuming I agree.
But I can’t agree.
I didn’t have a man in my room. It was only a stupid, embarrassing dream that’s completely ruining my life at this point.
I don’t know how I’m going to convince her though. In fact, I’m pretty sure nothing will convince her because she wants it to be true.
And if that’s the case, I have no idea what I’m going to do.
Picking up Charity’s abandoned cereal bowl, I carry it into the kitchen and rinse it out. Then I go through the motions of cleaning up the kitchen area. Loading up the dishwasher, wiping down the counters, and straightening the napkins. Hoping she’ll eventually make a reappearance after calming down.
But she never comes out of her room.
Giving up on having a calm, rational conversation with her, I head back to my room and finish getting dressed for the day. Once I’m done and have everything I need packed in my bag, I wander back out to the kitchen.
Lingering for as long as I can.
Remembering I promised Isaac I’d eat something for breakfast, I grab a strawberry cereal bar and take my time eating. Nibbling it down bit by bit until I reach the tips of my fingers.