Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79607 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“I mean, sure, you screwed Jackson in an attempt to get over Asher. But even that was a one-off. Not that I blame you, though,” she whispers conspiratorially, holding her finger and thumb an inch apart in the universal sign for tiny penis, with her bottom lip jutted out in a fake pout.
“What the hell, Whit?!” Jackson yells, while my brother says, “You fucked my sister?”
“Since we’re all sharing secrets,” Jackson shoots back, “do you want to know the real reason Asher had to leave?”
“Jackson, no.” Whitley shakes her head, looking genuinely nervous for the first time. My heart sinks, stomach full of dread. Even Asher seems confused. What could Jackson possibly know about Asher leaving?
“Whitley saw you guys that night,” he starts, and Asher’s grip on his throat tightens. “In Dash’s room. She saw you in the window.”
“What the fuck is he talking about?” my brother, who is rapidly losing patience, asks.
“She knew right then she’d lost him, so she snapped a picture before Dash caught up and sent it to Daddy Vale. He’s the one who had him sent away. All because she was jealous.”
What? How?
My dad has made his feelings for Asher clear, but he would never do something like that. And if he did, he would’ve mentioned knowing, right? Asher drops his hand abruptly, bringing both hands behind his head as he paces back and forth, letting this new information sink in. She did this. I underestimated her. I thought she was just a typical high school mean girl: Gothic edition. I never thought she’d be capable of something like this. I shouldn’t be surprised, yet I still am.
“She was fourteen!” Dash shouts, and from the sheer outrage in his voice, I know this is going to be bad. “You were with my sister when she was fourteen?”
“No, it wasn’t like tha—” I try, but Dash lunges at Asher, only to be held back by Adrian.
“You fucking piece of shit,” my brother says between clenched teeth. “I let you into my house. I trusted you with her. Instead, you fucking preyed on her! She’s a child!”
Asher wipes his bloody nose with the back of his hand and sniffs.
“I didn’t fucking touch her, man.”
“So, she’s lying?” Jackson stabs a finger in Whitley’s direction. “You two haven’t been seeing each other behind my back?”
“Not back then, we weren’t. I fought it when she was younger. I fucking fought it as hard as I could.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“I love her.”
My mouth drops open. Love. Asher loves me. And he’s admitting it in a room full of people. The words are right, so right, but the timing is so wrong.
Dash rushes Asher, and they both go down. Jackson takes the opportunity to slip out of the room like the coward he is, and both Adrian and I try to break them up. Asher is doing his best to block my brother’s hits without actually doing any harm, but after a few good punches, I can tell his graciousness is wearing off, and he’s close to fighting back. In all the years that Dash and Asher have been friends, they’ve never come to blows.
“Knock it the fuck off!” Adrian shouts, separating them with a palm to each of their chests. I step in front of Asher just as Dash throws another punch. Ash shoves me out of the way and I stumble toward Whitley, but I catch myself. I turn my attention back to Dash and Asher, still trying to find my footing when I feel something abruptly pull me backward by my hair. I throw my arms out and try to twist around to brace myself for the fall, but something sharp hits my temple and then…nothing.
Black.
Just black.
Chapter 13
Asher
I’m going to fuck Dash up. That’s my only thought as I push Briar out of the way right before his fist makes contact with her face. I get it. I fucked up. But he’s putting Briar in danger because he can’t see past his anger.
I hear Whitley scream, and from the corner of my eye, I see Briar go down. She hits the side of her head on the table next to Whitley, sending the tray of coke flying. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Briar!” I scream her name, but she doesn’t move. Whitley stands there, gaping, and brings her hands to her mouth. I drop to my knees. I want to shake her, to lift her head and force her to look at me, but I know I shouldn’t move her. Blood pools under her head, and I look to Dash, who’s white as a fucking ghost.
“Call 911!”
Adrian breaks out of frozen fear, frantically feeling around for the phone in his pocket.
“Briar, baby, wake up. Why the fuck isn’t she waking up?!”
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Memories flash through my head of seeing my mom just like this, and I shake my head, violently, to rid myself of the images assaulting my mind. This is Briar, and this is different.