Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 49388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 247(@200wpm)___ 198(@250wpm)___ 165(@300wpm)
Tarian’s dressed in his Tool T-shirt, black jeans that are ripped at the knees, and his eighteen-hole Doc Martens. With his choice of clothing and piercings that shimmer in the right corner of his full bottom lip and left eyebrow, he looks every bit an emo teen, and I can’t help but want to mess up his perfectly styled, jet-black hair. He’s freshly shaven, and his flawless angular features make my fingertips tingle with the need to reach out and feel the smoothness of his jaw.
“Yeah,” I finally respond, attempting to hide the attraction I feel for him.
There’s a small hint of a grin on his face, and I know he knows I’m crushing on him. It’s stupid, nonsensical, because I know we can only ever be friends.
“Let’s go,” he tells me as he walks away, leaving me staring at the empty doorway.
I want to scream at him, tell him to stop being a closed off asshole who only wants revenge, but I can’t because I know he deserves closure.
Tugging on the handle of my suitcase, I drag it behind me as I make my way through the apartment to the living room where Tarian’s luggage is already waiting at the door. Jerome, Billy’s son, is also there, waiting to drive us to the airfield. I haven’t seen him since he left Tynewood.
After we greet each other, Jerome grabs my suitcase, along with one of Tarian’s, and makes his way out of the apartment.
“I was thinking about sending you back to Tynewood, but it seems I’m going to need your help,” Tarian tells me once we’re alone. He doesn’t look at me while he’s speaking. “There’s a get-together this weekend at the Amsterdam society. They’re initiating two new members, and I need you to entertain the crowd before the ceremony.”
“What?” I’ve heard about meetings like this before. When I learned what Rukaiya went through, having to dance for them, ice filled my veins at the notion. “You can’t expect me to— “
“If you don’t want to go, I understand. I’ll hire someone else to do it.” Tarian turns and saunters toward the front door.
“Wait,” I call after him. My stupidity really is taking its toll right now. “What do I have to do?”
I close the distance between us, willing him to turn and look at me, to face me when he speaks.
Tarian glances at me over his shoulder, the corners of his full pink lips tilt upward, and the silver ring in his lower lip glints in the light. “Just be yourself, sweetheart,” he tells me. “Sexy, naughty, and flirty.”
Then he turns away again and heads out to the car at the same time as Jerome walks back into the apartment to grab the last of our luggage.
Once I’ve joined Tarian in the backseat of the car, I settle and pull out my cell phone. It’s been twenty-four hours since I last contacted Etienne and Ares to let them know how he’s doing. Each time I send them a message, I worry I’m being disloyal to Tarian.
He trusts me.
He doesn’t realize I’m here for them as well as myself.
“You know,” Tarian speaks, interrupting my typing. “I’m not stupid, Grecia.”
Flicking my gaze to his, I ask, “What do you mean?”
He chuckles, shaking his head before he pins those baby blues on me, and once again, I see the monster lurking beneath the glassy façade. “I can see you’re messaging them. I know you’ve been doing it ever since you arrived.”
“Tar— “
“It’s fine. However, I’d like to make one thing clear to you,” he says, scooting over so he’s right beside me on the bench seat. The heat of his body burns through my sweater, and his cologne, which reminds me of a pine forest mingled with the smoke of the cigarette he’s just finished, envelops me. “If you ever lie to me in future, I’ll send you straight back to your stepdaddy’s house, and you’ll be forced to deal with your family’s drama on your own.”
A gasp falls free from my lips. He knows there’s a reason I don’t want to go home, but he doesn’t realize just how painful it would be for me to walk back into that house. But then again, perhaps he does.
“Am I understood, Grecia?”
“You’re an asshole, Tarian Calvert,” I tell him. “But I understand.”
“Good. I hope you haven’t lied and told them I’ve fucked you, because they know I don’t play so close to home.”
“No, why would I tell them that. I wouldn’t want them to think I was one of those girls you get to suck your dick every night,” I bite out, jealousy tingeing every word.
I know challenging him is sheer stupidity. When he’s in this kind of mood, it’s best to let him stew in silence. But then again, when it comes to Tarian, I’ve never been very smart.