Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Janie speaks first.
“I’ve heard all the things you’ve been saying about me in particular these past few days.” She adjusts the strap of a pumpkin-shaped purse that slips down her shoulder. “That’s not how you should speak about another human being. Period.”
Brad scratches his blond hair by the temple, smirking. “So…you wouldn’t want to be hogtied then?”
His friends laugh.
Farrow has a hand on my shoulder, and his fingers dig into my muscle.
Rage bangs at my chest. My arms stay crossed. I don’t move.
“No,” Jane refutes, “and that’s not something you should be asking. It’s not kind. It’s not appropriate. If you did that to another girl—”
“Whoa.” Brad holds up his hands. “I’d never say that to another chick. But you ask for it. You’re always talking about BDSM on that show. I mean, you’re inviting this shit. It’s your fault.”
“She talks about how she’s not into BDSM,” I snap. “Because guys like you can’t seem to understand that she’s not her mom.”
Jane adds, “And you guys don’t seem to understand the meaning of consent. Even if I enjoyed BDSM like my mom, you shouldn’t be speaking to me or her like that. Don’t be a vile person. Is it that dreadfully difficult for you?”
“Did she just compare herself to her mom?” Tyler laughs to Brad.
Brad chuckles. “I’ve seen Rose Calloway’s sex tapes and…” He motions to Jane’s body. “That’s a cheap imitation.” Fuck them.
Jane almost steps forward, but Farrow rests a hand on her shoulder now.
How is he not ready to swing? My blood is boiling. My biceps flexed, hands in fists. I swallow a thousand times to try and remind myself, do not fight them.
Do not move.
It solves nothing.
Farrow keeps his voice even-keeled and asks, “What’s the point of saying that? They’re all telling you it’s hurtful. Listen.”
Tyler nods to Jane. “Get thicker skin.”
“Fuck you,” I growl. “You’re a guest here.”
Brad smirks, but his tone changes—hostility mounting. “No, we won a raffle that we paid for.”
I grind my teeth. Calm. Be calm. I breathe out before I ask calmly, “Why even enter the raffle if you hate us? Why come here and take the opportunity away from other people who would’ve loved to be where you are?”
Brad extends his arms. “Free camping trip.”
I have no words. Full disclosure: I don’t understand them. I can’t relate. I can’t empathize. I don’t know if it’s because I stand on a platform, a pedestal too high to see from their perspective. I don’t know if it’s because as I try to jump down, into their shoes, I’m just flooded with rage.
My gaze daggers. Burning and churning, and my face is all blades. All sharp, brutal edges.
Tyler snickers. “Did you all really just pull us aside to lecture us?”
Brad snorts. “They did.” He smacks his friend’s chest, and they chuckle again.
Tyler shakes his head. “It’s almost like they think they’re so much better than us. The entitlement that you two have is honestly disgusting.”
In my peripheral, I notice people filming the interaction. Phones whipping out and pointed at us. This has traveled in a direction I never thought it’d actually go.
Sometimes I can’t predict what people will think. What the public thinks. Where’s Jack Highland when you need him?
Jane raises her chin. “We just believe that you should be kinder. Don’t tell a girl that she should be hogtied, even if it’s someone you see on TV. Even if they say they like it—they’re not saying they want to be hogtied by you.” She takes a deep breath. “If you consider that entitled, then…okay. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t fucking apologize,” I tell her. They’ve been beating her down for three days. I’m not going to let that stand.
“Oohh,” Brad says. “We’ve struck a cord.”
I growl, “You’ve struck nothing, asshole.”
“Maximoff,” Farrow warns in the pit of my ear.
I point at these guys. “I sincerely hope that you don’t ever talk to women like that in your everyday life,” I growl. “Fuck it, you shouldn’t talk to anyone like that. And if you can’t see right from wrong, then remove your heads from your asses.”
As soon as the words escape my mouth, phones buzz and chime and ring all around us. People whisper, casting glances our direction. Even my cell vibrates madly in my pocket. It’s like someone flipped a switched and shrouded us in darkness.
What the fuck is going on?
Eyes begin to zero in on Janie and me. Like we’ve just undressed in the middle of the field. Naked. Bare. My pulse speeds.
Brad practically cackles, glancing from his phone, then to me, back to his phone. Then to me. “No wonder you’re so defensive of Jane Cobalt,” he says. “You’re fucking her.”
I lunge.
“Nope.” Farrow grabs me around the waist. I’m all boiling wrath. I point at Brad, my feet dragging in the dirt as Farrow restrains me.