Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
I don’t like Jason.
Do I really look like a boy?
I didn’t think so.
“Go away,” I murmur.
“Or what?” she challenges, raising her brow at me.
“I’ll tell King.”
“Ohhh,” she laughs. “I’m so scared.”
“Just go away!” I shout, frustrated.
“Fuckin’ leave her alone, Sissy.”
Alarick’s voice carries down the hallway, and Sissy turns, scowling at him. “Future president here to take charge.”
“Leave her be.”
“Oh, don’t worry, Alarick, I wasn’t tormenting your little princess. I was just telling her a few life lessons.”
“Get lost.”
Sissy laughs and turns, sauntering down the hallway. I peek out with my towel still in my hand and see Alarick watching her go. Then he turns to me, and I say, without thinking, “Do I look like a boy?”
For a moment, he looks stunned, and then he says, in a voice I almost can’t hear, “Fuck no.”
Then he’s gone.
I wonder if Alarick likes me?
I know one thing is for sure.
I really like him.
3
NOW – BRIELLA
“I’m looking for Magnolia?” I say to the very drawn out, skinny, hideously smelly man standing at the door to the apartment that is supposed to belong to my sister.
He really doesn’t look like anyone Magnolia would associate with, but then it has been weeks since the last text I received from her, the same amount of time since she’s answered her phone. I’ve been swept up since the news I received, and since then I haven’t had much chance to track her down, but an old friend of ours that lives here said she thinks she could be getting herself into trouble.
I had to come.
I can’t get surgery on Rupert until I’ve sorted her out.
I’ve nicknamed my tumor Rupert; it kind of makes it a little less scary to think about. Considering it’s mostly all I think about.
“And you are?” the man murmurs, crossing his arms and looking me up and down.
“Her sister. Is she here or not?”
He cocks a brow. “Haven’t seen her in weeks. Don’t know where she is.”
Load of crap. He knows where she is.
“Listen, buddy, you either tell me where she is or ...”
Dammit.
I have a flaw. A full human flaw. I can’t make a valid threat. You know those people that can just throw a threat out without even thinking of it? Yeah, that’s not me. I begin with my sentence, and then I can think of nothing that’ll sound scary enough to use. So I hang there, usually mumbling and stuttering, until I say something absolutely ridiculous to make myself look even worse.
I glance around, trying desperately to come up with a good threat to use.
“Or you’ll what?” he challenges, stepping a little closer to me.
“Or I’ll tip that pot plant all over your patio,” I say, crossing my arms and nodding to a huge pot plant next to the door. “Just imagine all that ... soil.”
Oh god.
Someone take me out.
Take me out now.
Soil.
I said soil.
The man laughs and shakes his head. “Very scary.”
“It will be when you’re sweeping it up for months. Now, tell me where my sister is.”
“Told you,” he growls. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”
“Bullshit. Let me in, I bet she’s in there. This is her apartment.”
“Hasn’t been her apartment for months. Your sister is obviously a good liar.”
Dammit.
Fuck, Magnolia! Fuck.
“Let me in to see for myself,” I say, looking past him.
“No.”
“Let me in!” I protest, going to step past him.
He shoves me.
It’s not a hard shove, but it’s enough to make me lose my footing and topple backward down the stairs.
I land on my bottom, thankfully, but the force I land makes my head scream in pain. A pain I haven’t felt. A pain I honestly thought I’d not see. Rupert isn’t happy, and neither am I right now. I grip the sides of my head and clench my teeth as it feels like a freight train is zig zagging its way through my skull. The door slams to the house; he doesn’t even see if he’s killed me or not.
Dammit.
I wouldn’t have fallen if I didn’t have a risky fucking tumor in my head.
It’s like when you kick your toe and suddenly everyone starts standing on it.
I need to be more careful.
“Briella?”
At the sound of my name I very carefully lift my head and look up to see Cohen standing on the front lawn, staring down at me, his face scrunched with confusion.
Oh, Cohen.
These guys are all part of the club, even when King had it. He brought them all on just before Alarick took over and he passed away. He picked them, and took them through everything, including the major hardships that come with club life, before finally patching them all in. There are still a bunch of older members, the ones that totally respect Alarick but mostly just hang out at the club and try to avoid getting involved in the dangerous side.
They’re like strays, I suppose. Members for life. Always there. Always will be.