Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
After tying my golden curls back and slipping my phone into my pocket, I walk out of my room and find Cara curled up on the couch already deep into a new book, somehow able to ignore the booming music coming from next door. “Where the hell are you going?” she questions, looking over the back of the couch at me, her gaze raking up and down my body. “Shit, who would have known you had such a nice ass under those sweats?”
I laugh and pass by the kitchen, scooping up the keys she’d given me earlier. “I’m heading down to that bar to get myself a job.”
“Damn straight you are,” she says, turning her attention back to her book. “Give ’em hell.”
A wave of determination flourishes in my chest, and I hold my head high as I make my way to the door. “Oh,” Cara calls after me as I pull the door open, the music from outside spilling into our small apartment. “Whether you get the job or not, do me a favor and bring me back one of those extra cheesy burgers they have.”
“What?” I laugh. “You just ate.”
“And I’ll eat again,” she cheers.
My laugh fades as I step into the hallway and face the crowd of partiers with red solo cups wandering between open doors. Girls in short skirts linger in doorways as guys squeeze past them, carrying all sorts of booze under their arms. As I try to squeeze through the masses, a figure appears in the doorway directly opposite mine, and the fear that rocks through my body is like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
I don’t know what it is about him, but the guy is bad news. He’s tall and built like a fucking linebacker, and goddamn, he’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I feel like those big hands alone could end a life with barely a flick of his wrist, and the darkness in his eyes is almost daring me to make him.
Jet black hair falls forward into his eyes which are equally as dark, like two hollow pits of nothingness just waiting for their next victim to fall into their rotten trap. His lips are full and drawing me in, but as he clenches his jaw and I see just how sharp it is, I know I need to back away.
A hint of tattoos peeks out from beneath his shirt, winding up his neck and arms, and the intricate designs have me needing to see more. But I don’t dare stare a second longer than necessary. He leans against the doorframe, watching me with curiosity as I shrink away, a strange anxiety pulsing through my veins. Chills sweep over my body, and I swallow hard, the intensity of his stare too much for me to handle.
This guy isn’t just dangerous, he’s lethal. He’s the type of man you’d find lingering in the shadows following you home, and I don’t like it one fucking bit.
Fear settles into my stomach, and I force my stare to the ground before hurrying down the hall, squeezing past the bodies while feeling his curious stare locked on my back. I make a mental note never to walk these halls alone, and I pray there’s a deadbolt on my front door, but I doubt a simple lock would be able to stop someone like him from getting what he wants.
With plenty of bodies between me and who I can only assume is some kind of serial killer, I find myself glancing back over my shoulder, my curiosity getting the best of me. Hell, this isn’t just dangerous territory, he’s straight out of a nightmare, and I shouldn’t find him so alluring. But I guess that’s just part of his plan.
His eyes are still locked on mine, and I watch as a friend moves into his side. The newcomer looks relaxed and ready to party, messy blond hair and bright green eyes, looking like some kind of sexed-up surfer dude. He looks like the kind of guy I could probably get down with, only when the scary dude tilts his head toward his friend and mutters something, the friend’s back stiffens before his lethal stare sweeps toward me. His fun party-boy demeanor quickly morphs into something stony and cold.
They watch me and it’s like they’ve been waiting for something—waiting for me—and it sends a bout of fear blasting through my chest. I move my feet faster, reconsidering my entire move to Faders Bay, but I wouldn’t be my father’s daughter if I let something keep me from getting where I need to go.
Continuing down the hall, I finally reach the exit that leads out onto the street. As I shove my shoulder into the door and push it open, I look back one more time and regret it immediately. The two guys from across the hall are now standing in front of my neighbor’s apartment with another guy, the three of them huddled together, each with their hollow, wicked stares locked on me. This must be the neighbor Cara warned me about, the one I share a bedroom wall with . . . the one who’s always fucking.