Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176345 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 882(@200wpm)___ 705(@250wpm)___ 588(@300wpm)
Grunting, I tear away at my pillows, look under my bed, under my desk, my chair, my notes, all of my books. My shelves come undone as I rip everything apart and check behind each item. Nothing is left unscathed.
Until I finally find it.
A tiny square box with a camera and a wireless transmitter.
“Motherfucker,” I mutter, staring straight into the camera.
I crush it in my hand, boiling over with anger.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes, and I almost crush that too in my rage.
Dad: Come to my office. Now please. I want to speak with you.
Great. Just when I’m about to set loose my inner demon, my father forces me to behave. Can’t explode in front of the entire school.
“Everything okay in there?” It’s Irina.
“I’m fine. I’m fine. Just some annoying texts,” I reply.
“Those boys again?” she muses.
I throw myself down onto the bed. “Yup.”
“Well, if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here,” she says.
“I really don’t want to talk about it. But thank you for being there,” I say.
“Of course. My door’s always open,” she replies. “Well, I’m gonna go to my next class. See you tonight!”
“See ya!”
But I don’t think I’ll be here tonight.
Definitely not tonight.
Not when I know exactly where to find those fucking boys, thanks to Milo’s info … and I’ll absolutely be there waiting for them.
When Irina’s gone, I exit my room and head downstairs and straight out the door, making my way back to the main building where I just fucked with Milo.
Good God, that fucker is insane.
But in a sort of messed-up, arousing way.
I don’t know how to explain it, not to me nor anyone else if they ever asked. But that twisted fucker got me off so good while I was able to unleash all of my anger issues onto him, and the release that followed … fuck. It was unlike anything I ever experienced.
But I have to stop fucking thinking about it, or I’ll drive myself insane with lust all over.
Fuck, those boys really pull the worst out of me. And to think I’d actually enjoy it … No wonder Jason could never get me off.
I run up the three flights of stairs to the dean’s office, but I pause in front of the door when I hear familiar voices that make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“My family is in jail.”
Nathan.
“That is not a fault of ours.” That’s my father. “And we have done all we can to help you and your family after the feud between you and my son.”
“And those damn friends of his.”
Kai.
My hand rests on the doorknob, sweat drops trickling down my back.
They’re in there with my fucking father.
My enemies.
I jerk the handle and throw the door open, but when my eyes connect with theirs, I feel something other than the mere need for vengeance; excitement.
And the thrill on their faces when they see me in the flesh, totally unabashed, unshaken by their destruction of my dignity.
Because I am the motherfucking queen of this campus, and they’ll have to rip this crown from my goddamn head after I’m buried six feet under if they want to subdue me.
So I barge in and head straight for my dad, planting a kiss on his cheeks while he’s in the middle of berating those boys. “You called for me?”
Kai
Later that evening
Blowing out smoke from my cig, I check my watch. 11:00 p.m. The exact time Nathan arranged for a meetup with a stranger at the Shack, just beyond the school grounds and a little bit down the road. It’s an old, run-down house that hasn’t been rented or sold in years and mostly used for illegal parties by students from the school.
A perfect place to commit a crime in the dark of night.
Nathan pretended to be a young kid to lure an old rich fucker into coming here, and I’m antsy to see the shock on his face when he sees all three of us grown-ass men waiting for him.
When a car slowly comes up the hill, I flick my fingers. “Milo. My knives.”
He stops sharpening them and throws them over.
I tuck them into my pocket and throw away the cigarette. “Thanks.”
I put on my mask, and Milo does the same. Nathan takes a huge drag of the cig until there’s only a bud left, and he chucks it onto the ground, then puts on his mask. “I’m so fucking ready for this.”
Milo winces as he adjusts his coat as though his shoulders hurt.
“You okay?” Nathan asks, narrowing his eyes.
“Yeah, yeah,” Milo says, clearing his throat.
“Hide in the bushes,” I tell him. “We’ll wait inside and trap him. Make sure he doesn’t escape.”
“Gotcha,” Milo replies, as I follow Nathan into the house, and we each take a side of the hallway; him in the living room, me in the kitchen.