Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 158635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 793(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 793(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“Relax, Cecy!” she tells me. “Can’t you turn off your brain for a second?”
I wish I could.
But I saw a bunch of people buying drugs in the corners. And that sleazy man just touched his junk while watching us.
There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to turn my brain off after witnessing some of these scenes. Even I realize that becoming overly suspicious and careful is a translation of my trauma.
The world isn’t a safe place.
And while I want to get out of here, I can’t just leave Ava alone. Those arseholes will probably pounce on her—not that they wouldn’t while I’m here, but I can at least try to save her.
The guys reach us first. All three are tall, well-dressed, and look like university kids. Probably a year older than me.
One of them, a curly-haired brunet, slides behind Ava, dancing to the same rhythm as her without touching her, and the two others, one a blond and the other with black hair, surround me.
My temperature rises to my throat, cheeks, and ears. I’m thinking about grabbing Ava’s hand and scramming the hell out of here, but she’s dancing with Curly Hair and wiggling her arse against him.
“Relax,” she mouths, probably seeing the doomsday reaction on my face.
Easy for her to say. I don’t know how the hell I’ll be able to even breathe properly in this atmosphere.
Curly Hair whispers something in her ear and she laughs and shouts back, “I’m Ava! That’s Cecily!”
“I love your name, Cecily,” the blond guy murmurs in my ear in an American accent, and my knee-jerk reaction is to elbow him in the side and run. “I’m Steven.”
“Larry,” the black-haired one supplies.
One of them, Steven, touches my arm. Goosebumps erupt all over my skin, but it’s respectful enough that I don’t feel threatening vibes.
You also didn’t feel threatening vibes with that scum.
I lift my head to look at Ava and she’s full-on dancing with the curly-haired one, both of them showing their moves. She slides her fingers through her hair and tips her head back in rhythm to the music.
I can’t help scanning our surroundings for Eli’s presence. If he has eyes here—and he has eyes everywhere—then she’s in deep trouble.
“Donovan and I are going to get some drinks!” she shouts and then disappears with the guy before I can stop her.
And I’m left with these two.
Larry remains behind me, dancing slowly to match my awkward rhythm while Steven comes in front of me and grabs my arm.
He picked up that I’m peeved out about being touched, so he’s been keeping his respectful distance, and I appreciate that. At least, I don’t feel the need to retch all over his designer shoes.
But I still want to remove myself from this situation.
Clubs are really not my scene.
And neither is peopling.
Where the hell is Ava?
“I haven’t seen you around,” Steven shouts over the music as he and his friend basically sandwich me in the middle.
“I don’t usually do this,” I say with enough awkwardness to feel embarrassed.
“Figured! You’re too beautiful to be hidden away.”
My spine jerks upright and I stare at him with wide eyes.
You’re too beautiful to be hidden away, Cecily.
Those exact words stumble in my brain, crashing and clawing until I’m unable to breathe.
He said them to me when we first started dating.
No, this can’t be.
I’m imagining things, right?
Steven looks nothing like him, but maybe he knows him?
His hand slides from my arm to my waist, getting bolder and rougher.
I hyperventilate, but instead of breathing harshly, my body goes into a state of shock. It’s hardening and turning into stone.
No, no. I need to get out of here first.
Shit, shit.
I attempt to elbow him, but I’m not moving.
I can’t move.
Larry’s clutching my hip now, his touch burning the material of my dress and branding itself on my skin.
I don’t want him to touch me, but I can’t stop him.
Hell, I can’t even breathe properly.
The state of helplessness rushes to the surface, bubbling with nausea and terrorizing fear.
Just when I think I’m going to be sick, a large hand grips Steven’s shoulder. A masculine, veiny, very familiar hand.
In a flash, Steven is wrenched back so powerfully that he nearly knocks out a few other people with him.
I swear my heart flutters when I see exactly who’s in front of me.
My eyes slide over Jeremy’s impressive build, the jeans and leather jacket that hug his muscles, before they finally lock on his cold, blank face.
While this isn’t particularly different from his usual expression, there’s something unusual now.
An emotion so potent, it lingers in the air and strikes me in my bones.
Wrath.
It drips off Jeremy in a deranged manner as he clutches Steven with apparent nonchalance but hidden rage.
The type that simmers beneath the surface and has dire consequences.
“Fuck off.” He throws Steven away as if he were no different than a useless rag.