Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“The guy trust me.”
“Mmmm.” Maksim let go of the bag. “Sometimes I wonder, Annie, if you’ll ever see yourself the way Ash sees you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Like the charity case?”
“Hah!” He stood and helped me to my feet. “Nah, like the cold drink of water after years of wandering in the desert. Sometimes I think he’s just afraid it’s all a mirage and that the minute he reaches out to drink—it will disappear.”
“Is there a lesson in there somewhere?” I found myself smiling.
He just winked. “I’m sure there is, then again, what do I know? I’m only nineteen…”
“You’re literally a genius, but okay.” I smiled. “Thank you for the rescue and for helping me with my bag.”
“Hey, I helped too.” King was dusting off his uniform; his golden tipped mess of curls chaotically thrown around his head, his eyes bright like his blood was pumping through his veins, ready for a fight.
“Thanks, King.” I grinned.
“Hey, what are friends for?”
Oh great, now they were going to think I was crazy as I swiped a tear from under my eye and looked away.
Suddenly I had two giant, lethal guys surrounding me and then pulling me in for a group hug.
“Annie sandwich!” Maksim announced.
I didn’t wonder if Ash saw.
I didn’t even care anymore.
I just sat there and let them both hug me, two of the most good looking guys on campus and quite possibly in existence—who was I kidding? Every single one of the mafia guys could be models.
Girls would die to be the Annie sandwich for that reason alone.
But they said friends.
And I knew they meant it.
“Hey,” Maksim whispered so only King and I could hear. “Give him time, all right?”
I didn’t argue.
I just shuddered and murmured, “Okay.”
And then they were gone.
I turned on my heel and started making my way toward Tank. Ash was nearby kicking the crap out of a tree stump, blood caked on his knuckles.
“You ready?” I gulped, trying not to look too much in Ash’s direction.
“Yeah,” Tank barked out. “Let’s go.”
Before I could say anything, he grabbed me by the arm as if trying to protect me from Ash.
“But what about—”
“If he really feels the need to come, he’ll get his stupid ass in the car and follow,” Tank said through gritted teeth.
He didn’t give me a chance to ask Ash if he was okay.
Because while he was angry.
He never once just physically attacked a person for not watching where they were going, and even more so, it was like the old Ash was back, ready to strike at whoever and whatever blinked at him wrong.
And because I was a sucker for punishment—I needed to know why.
Chapter Eighteen
“To the well-organized mind, death is just the next adventure.”— JK Rowling
Ash
I slammed my car door and stomped into the house. Irritation twined like hot barbed wire around every nerve ending. I’d lost control over something so dumb, fucking blinded by how angry I’d been as if that one random stranger was the reason for it all.
I waved off the associates in suits at Sergio’s. I’d grown up around them all, and they knew to always let me in. Besides, she was in there with Tank.
Mine.
Something raged inside me, like a beast rattling its cage, desperate to get free. Part of me knew why I was upset.
And refused to even acknowledge it.
Because I knew what I would do at midnight tonight.
Just like I knew what I’d done last year, only months after her death.
“Ash, heard you got in a fight…” Sergio didn’t even look up from his cell phone. “Wanna talk about it—”
My answer was to growl.
He just chuckled like my anger and intolerance amused him. “Guess not.”
“They in the theater room?” I clenched my fists so tight that I probably broke some of the scabs already forming on my knuckles.
Keep it together.
It’s just Annie.
Annie and Tank.
Fucking Annie.
“Sounds like it,” he said dryly as more laughter bounced down the hall, attacking my ears with a cruel vengeance.
What the hell was he saying getting her to laugh like that? So free and open? Without a care in the world?
And why was jealousy raging through me like a fucking canon at the idea of her responding to him in a way I’d felt so damn guilty for wanting for so long.
Long before she left for Italy.
His chuckle grew louder as I stomped my way down the hall and into the large theater room.
The lights were low like Tank was seconds away from asking her to make out before fumbling through what would be the worst feel up in human history.
I mean, one could only hope, right?
Because the last guy to touch her was me.
Right?
Right?
Shit, had she hooked up with anyone in Italy? Why was I choosing now to focus on all the things I didn’t know when the one thing I did was like a movie that refused to pause playing before me.