Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153544 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
“You’re right.” He offers her his hand. “I’m Brandon.”
She shakes it and looks at me.
“Mia,” I say. “My cousin.”
They smile at each other, already seeming to get along. I haven’t thought about this before, but it’s another opportunity to get Brandon on my side regarding his sister.
I owe you one, Mia.
Note to self, buy her more ribbons.
“How do you curse in sign language?” Landon asks, probably to be a dick, because he can’t handle how everyone in this scene is now against him.
She flips him off again while smiling.
“Like that,” I supply for her, and Brandon does a failure of a job in hiding his smile.
“Let’s go eat,” she signs, completely ignoring him. “I made you pancakes. I tried finding Nikolai, but that dork is MIA. And Maya was like ‘Bitch, get out before I stab you.’ In fucking capital letters. That shit becomes mental when her sleeping time is interrupted, and I’m looking for therapy for her issues. It happens on Tuesdays if you’re interested in joining. Oh, and Gareth isn’t answering my texts, and I’m so gonna tell Aunt Reina he’s ghosting me.”
“So I’m your last choice?” I raise a brow.
She laughs like a little hellion, then hits my shoulder and signs, “You know you’re my favorite.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Tell Brandon to come along,” she signs. “He’s obviously the nice twin.”
“She’s inviting you to eat with us.” I motion at Brandon, and he surprisingly nods and walks toward us.
Good. I can ask him questions about his difficult sister who’s still not answering me.
I swear to fuck, I’m going to put a tracker on her phone next time I see her.
“You have seven days to cut ties with Glyndon or we’ll do it my way,” Landon announces, accentuating his words with one last scratch to my car before he stalks in the other direction.
“Let me go get him, Kill,” Mia signs. “I’ll bite his head off.”
“What the fuck? You’re not a dog.” I laugh, then say more seriously, “Stay out of this. I mean it. This is my fight and I don’t want you in the middle.”
She pouts, but then she releases a sigh and nods.
Brandon rubs the back of his head. “You should probably take his threat seriously.”
“Nah, he doesn’t scare me.”
“He should. Don’t underestimate him.”
“Oh, I won’t. I also won’t let him put his nose where it doesn’t fucking belong.” I smile. “Now, who wants some pancakes?”
The little rabbit can ghost me all she wants. She refuses to talk to me? Fine.
But I’ll make sure she’s the one who comes running, not the other way around.
26
GLYNDON
Today is just not my day.
Not only did the girls grill me about all the Killian drama, but I also got an earful from Professor Skies due to being late. The icing on the cake was bumping into a glass door after class.
In my defense, the last one happened because of all the people who kept watching me as if I were an exotic animal.
Attention isn’t my scene, but that wanker went ahead and put me at the forefront of everyone’s mind.
They wouldn’t stop talking about me behind my back, whispering, and murmuring, and making my anxiety shoot up.
I contemplated hiding in the bathroom for a bit, but then I thought that I don’t really owe people anything and shouldn’t be feeling ashamed about that kiss.
Yes, the bastard is at the top of my shit list, but that doesn’t mean I have to feel any form of shame.
So I held my head high, barely, finished my classes, and then went to the art studio.
We were supposed to paint a nude today, with one model for about fifteen students, but I realized halfway through that the features and the body lines on my canvas weren’t the model’s.
Far from it.
My sense of eroticism drove me to the nightmare I’ve been trying, and failing, to escape every time.
It made me put rough strokes around intense eyes and recreate every cut in his abdomen, hauntingly broken crows, and even the slight freckles on the top of his shoulders.
I need help.
When my colleagues take a break to smoke, I use the chance to check my phone.
I’m fully intent on ignoring Killian’s calls for the sole reason that I need time for me and myself.
But then I find a text from him.
Psycho: Run all you want. I’ll just occupy myself with…
Attached is a picture of my brother eating from a plate, his head down, so I can’t see his expression.
My heart skips a beat.
Please don’t tell me he coerced or threatened Bran with something?
I don’t think about it as I slip out of my painting jumpsuit, grab my bag, and drive all the way to the Heathens’ compound.
Judging from that picture and the wallpaper behind them, they must be somewhere in the mansion.
I stop the car in front of the closed gate.