Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 724(@200wpm)___ 579(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I notice Coach Von’s shirt is unbuttoned, his belt undone, and everything around me burns black.
I hear faint screams, they may even be mine, but I can’t say for sure.
And right now, I couldn’t care fucking less, ‘cause Brielle is safe, but this bitch is still breathing, and I’m not okay with that.
I lunge for him.
Brielle
Royce’s eyes flash, blackness taking over, and it’s as if he leaves his body completely.
He’s raging, but his face is scarily blank as his hand shoots out to grip on to Coach Von’s shoulder, the other slamming into his stomach and knocking the air from his lungs.
Coach Von groans but doesn’t crumple and begins to straighten. “We were just—”
Royce’s palm darts up, cupping the back of his head and jerking it down. His knee slams into his ribs, sending him stumbling in the opposite direction.
Beads of sweat form along my neck when Coach Von growls angrily and begins reaching into his back pocket.
I dart forward, but arms wrap around me, halting my advance.
I think I scream. I don’t remember anyone else entering, but when I look over my shoulder, it’s Captain’s eyes I find.
Mine widen, relief mixed with fear swimming in my core. “Captain, please. Get him and let’s go.”
“Never going to happen.” His expression holds an apology, but his grip is tight and sure. “There is no stopping him right now.”
Damn it!
My chest pounds heavy, pressure threatening to close my throat and meeting my temples.
Royce wraps Coach Von’s tie around his neck and tugs, dragging him to his tiptoes before swinging him around and tossing him into the wall behind him. He doesn’t let him catch his breath, but lifts him and slams him on top of the desk, his back crashing down on the computer monitor.
Coach Von cries out, attempting to scurry away, but Royce leaps up onto the desktop.
Royce’s pulse throbs in his neck, the veins in his arms protruding, pounding heavily, matching the rhythm of mine. He swings his foot around, kicking the man square in the jaw, the crack of bone echoing around the room, and the light begins to dull.
Coach Von groans, hits the wall and glides down it, his body giving out on him, but the idiot dares to make a point. “You’re a fool if you think I’m the only one who wants her,” he pants in a low gurgle, swallowing and choking on his own blood. “That there is isn’t someone else out there waiting, watching.”
Royce screams like a madman and hops down right in front of him, shouts and drags him to his feet, forcing him to stand so he can get in his face. Blood trickles down the coach’s face, his eyes near swollen shut. Royce headbutts him, releasing him as he does and down he goes again
“Oh my god.” I struggle to get free, everything around me now free of color and beginning to cloud. “Captain, please, let go. He’s going to kill him.”
“I know,” his voice is a gentle whisper.
He gives up and begins to beg, pleading for forgiveness that falls on deaf ears.
Royce spins, picks up a chair and slams it into the wall. He bends, grabbing a broken piece of wood he can use as a bat and swings it between his palm.
I start to cry, glance around, and spot Maddoc now standing near the entrance, his eyes on Royce. A hint of unease is written along his brow, but he quickly erases it when he realizes I’ve caught it.
He shakes his head no and I growl, twisting and turning my hands, but get nowhere.
This is bad.
This is only going to get worse.
Tension lines my forehead, a heavy throbbing taking over not only my head, but my entire body. I try to take a deep breath, but it does nothing. I blink and blink again, but with each one, my vision only fogs more.
The fiercely pumping blood and high heart rate, this is what I’m supposed to avoid. Stress and anxiety, the very things this world is made of.
Royce screams something at Coach Von. I can’t hear it, but I see Coach Von’s decision before it’s made, he’s ready for his last-ditch effort, the one that will get him killed, right here in this very classroom. The man lifts a piece of glass into his palm. He’s yet to fight back, but he knows now it’s his life or Royce’s.
Everyone else sees it too. Captain’s hold twitches, his body growing rigid behind me, and Maddoc’s shadow has slipped farther into the room.
Royce must too, because his entire body eases, ready. Excited almost.
We know he deserves a fate much worse, but this isn’t the place to put the final nail into the coffin, the lead up to it, sure, but the end can’t be here where students could very well be watching from outside the busted window.