Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Riley gets to his feet, peering inside at Brielle as he shakes his head in disbelief. “Holy fuck, bro. No chick has ever dropped me like that.” He can’t look away from her, watching her with a strange mix of awe and confusion as an uncalled-for panic spears through my chest. I’ve seen that look before. It’s the look he had when he saw the twins’ mom in a bikini for the first time after she had her tits done, the same look he gave her before spending the next six months obsessing over her and convincing himself that he was in love, and I don’t fucking like it.
“Get the fuck out of here, man,” I tell him, giving him a shove into the house and watching as he goes. “Go get cleaned up. You have your father’s dinner tonight.”
Riley groans, the mention of his father like a bucket of ice water tipped over his head. “Fuck, I’d almost forgotten about that,” he says, turning back and glancing at Brielle in the kitchen as she pours herself another drink. “It was a pleasure, but I must see myself out.”
Riley tips his imaginary hat to her and she narrows her eyes as she watches him leave, not bothering with a goodbye. Riley takes off and I turn back to my boys outside. “I’m out,” I tell them, not giving two shits if they stay and fuck Bri’s friends. As long as they keep their filthy hands off her, I’m good.
Turning around to head back in the house, I find Killjoy trailing toward me, sipping on her fruity shit. “Leaving so soon?” she smiles. “What a shame. I was really looking forward to whatever riveting conversation I’m sure you’re capable of.”
“Aww, Ashford’s got jokes,” I say, hating how much I’m enjoying this, but loving how much she hates it. “Shouldn’t be surprised, chicks like you have to rely on your personality. Don’t get by on much else—unless you like getting on your knees.”
“Ohhh, ouch,” she says, looking bored. “Was that one supposed to burn? Maybe I’ll ask your friends. I’m sure they might see things a little differently. Or who knows, maybe I might just get on my knees … for them.”
She’s fucking bluffing and we both know it, but it doesn’t lessen the sting of thinking of her on her knees for anyone but me. Fuck, I’m getting too caught up. If I’m not careful, this girl will become my obsession.
My hands slip into my pockets, and I give her the most condescending scoff I can possibly come up with. “I’ll be seeing you, Killjoy.”
And with that, I stride out of the house before I can convince myself to turn around, slam her up against the wall, and fuck her until we’re both panting on the ground.
Chapter 11
TANNER
It’s well after dark when I emerge from my bedroom and scavenge through the fridge for something to eat. Mom got back late, so she grabbed dinner on her way home and left me to fend for myself. Usually, it’d bug me, especially after a big training day, but I couldn’t even bring myself to think about food. Not after those few minutes standing in Brielle’s presence.
I’m starting to wonder if Killjoy is an appropriate name for her. That first night it sure as fuck was, but now? I’m not so sure. Every last encounter I’ve had with her has left me more than excited for our next meeting. It’s addicting to watch her scramble with fear only to remember that she has a backbone and fight back.
Grabbing some leftover spaghetti Bolognese from last night, I shove it into the microwave and hit start just as Mom strides into the kitchen, looking frazzled, her eyes darting around the room, unable to focus. “Oh, honey, you didn’t have to do that,” she tells me, noticing my dinner heating in the microwave. “I could have made you something fresh.”
“It’s fine. I got it covered,” I say, noticing her phone locked in her tight grip. I cross the kitchen and pry it from her hand before taking her shoulders and forcing her stare to mine. “What’s wrong?” I ask, my brows furrowed, hating seeing her like this. “Is Addie alright? Did something happen?”
Mom looks directly at me, yet she still seems so far away. “Ummm, yeah. Yes, of course Addie is okay. Same as yesterday, no change. It’s just ….” she pauses as she indicates toward her phone I carelessly tossed on the counter. “I just had a call from the police station. They have a suspect. Someone came forward and gave a name.”
“What?” My eyes widen and I step away from my mother, my chest heaving as I stare back at her, fury rippling through me as I picture my little sister lying in her hospital bed, imagining the sounds of her heart monitor beeping steadily. It’s been nearly five long weeks since the fucker who drugged and raped her left her in a coma, and I’ve wanted nothing more than to get my hands on the bastard. “Who, Mom? Who was it?”