Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Would he kill three girls, who, yes, were mean bitches, but just kids? Yes, yes, he would. He killed my father, so he would kill anyone in my eyes. I find it hard to concentrate but force myself to. I can’t let Lucca ruin my day, can’t let him cloud my mind. I’ll never know the answers to the questions I have, so there isn’t any point in dwelling on them.
Lucca will never show himself in my life again, and part of me is grateful for that, while another part of me is curious to see him again.
Before I know it, lunch is here. Hope gets roped into helping a new student, so I grab my tray of food and head outside. I don’t have many friends, and I’m not going to subject myself to finding a table in this crowded lunchroom.
Instead, I turn to the right and head out the doors that lead outside. There’s a tree a few yards away, and I choose to eat my lunch there. A soft breeze blows through my hair, and I sigh, leaning back against the bark while eating my apple.
My phone buzzes in the pocket of my hoodie, and I half expect it to be Hope calling to yell at me for not being more ambitious and finding a spot in the lunchroom. Color me shocked to see that it isn’t her, but an unknown number.
I stare at the screen, wondering if I should answer it. Something tells me to let it go to voicemail, but curiosity nags on me more. Against my better judgment, I hit the answer key. Holding my breath, I bring the phone to my good ear and listen intently.
“Hello, butterfly.” The air in my lungs stills and my heart skips a beat. His voice is rich, gravely, and deeper. The maturity of it reminds me of how long it’s been since I’ve heard him.
For a few seconds, I’m rendered speechless, and when I find my voice again, anger has replaced my shock about Lucca calling me. How dare he just call me out of the blue after six years.
“Don’t call me that,” I growl, holding the phone a little tighter. I should just hang up. Yeah, hang up and never talk to him again.
He breathes into the phone. “I’m sorry. I know you’re angry with me.”
I snort, but nothing I’m about to say is funny. “Angry? No, I’m not angry. I want you to leave me alone. Don’t you think you’ve done enough? Caused me enough pain?”
“My intentions weren’t to hurt you, and I know I did.” Why is he admitting these things? I toss my apple down onto the tray of half-eaten food.
“Stop admitting your wrongs. Why did you call me? Why now? What do you want?” I hiss through my teeth. My cheeks feel hot, and I hate the way my stomach clenches every time he speaks. It reminds me of who he used to be, how much those moments with him meant to my young self. I should’ve known how dangerous he was then, but I didn’t. I just wanted a friend.
“I’m only calling to check on you.”
“You don’t need to check on me, and you’ve never called before.”
“Don’t be like that, butterfly.”
I grit my teeth to stop myself from lashing out. I hate that he still calls me by the name he called me when I was ten years old. Looking out into the courtyard, I let the silence between us drag on.
“I’m only trying to protect you, Claire.” He shatters the silence.
“How? By killing people? Did you kill those girls? They didn’t transfer, did they?” I accuse.
Lucca chuckles. “I didn’t hurt them. I just made them leave. I’m not that heartless that I would kill three high school kids for bullying, but I made you a promise that day in the hospital, and I’m a man of my word. I’ll always protect you, even from a group of mean girls.”
His words would be heartfelt if I didn’t hate him for ruining my life.
“I don’t want your protection.” I shove a loose strand of bright red hair behind my ear. “Actually, I don’t need it. I’m fine. I want you to leave me alone.”
“You don’t know what you need,” Lucca interjects, annoyance dripping from his voice.
“I’m not a child. My childhood died the day my father did,” I bite out, knowing it’s a jab that will hit him right where it hurts. Plus, it’s a lie. My childhood died long before that day.
When he doesn’t say anything right away, I add, “I’m not asking you to stop following me. I’m telling you.”
“No.”
“No?” I challenge.
“No. I couldn’t stop, not even if I wanted to. Your protection is the most important thing to me. I’m not going anywhere, Claire, and nothing you say or do will change that.”