Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“A knife.”
Farrow rolls his eyes.
“Spin around, Moretti,” Oscar says.
Thatcher hesitates, but then he spins, elastic bands framing his bare ass. Sulli and Jane cheer, and the guys golf-clap. Except for Farrow, who couldn’t care less.
My cousins start marking their scores, and Thatcher takes the driver’s seat, letting Akara return to the lounge.
I rest my elbows on my knees, hunched.
“What are you feeling?” Farrow asks me.
“Lightly spinning,” I tell Farrow. “It’s not that bad right now…” I lose track of my thought as Charlie appears. He drops down from his bunk and determinedly beelines for the driver.
I can overhear him through the music and chatter. “Stop the bus at the next exit,” he tells Thatcher. “You need to park at the Dairy Queen.”
What? I call out to Charlie, “It’s Christmas Eve. Dairy Queen isn’t open.”
Charlie ignores me.
I bottle whatever weird feeling sits in my stomach and head. My shoulders more squared. Alert.
Thatcher turns the wheel, the bus coasting along the exit ramp. “Is there a reason?” he asks Charlie.
“You’ll see in a second,” Charlie says, more concerned than usual. His arms crossed over his chest. He even stays at the front of the bus.
Beckett shuts off the music and stops video-recording. Everyone is quiet.
Oscar pushes to the front and speaks hushed to Charlie, who barely responds. Chatter escalates again, and I give Janie a look. “I wish he’d share something with us.”
“We don’t know what it is yet,” she whispers.
Farrow wraps an arm around my waist. I want to lean my weight into him, but my joints feel unoiled and immovable.
I’m on guard.
Maybe Charlie can feel my glare drilling into him. Because he swings his head over his shoulder and says, “Patience isn’t a strong suit of yours.”
“Then tell me why we’re going to Dairy Queen,” I retort.
Charlie messes his already messy hair. “You always have to be in everyone’s business. Just relax. Take a back seat for once in your life.” Spite drips off those words.
“I don’t want to drive your fucking car, Charlie. I just want to know where the destination is.”
“I thought we were going to Dairy Queen,” Donnelly says to break the tension.
It doesn’t work.
Nothing ever works when it comes to Charlie and me. The bus rolls to a stop, and an unlit Dairy Queen appears outside the window. Parking lot empty except for a green beat-up Jetta that I don’t recognize.
As soon as the bus idles, a knock pounds the door.
I stiffen.
Who the hell did Charlie invite on the bus?
Thatcher unbuckles, and he’s the first to head down the stairs and unlock the door. I hear him apologize about his underwear, and he warns the person about the contest.
It’s a girl.
I just know it’s a girl.
I stand. Farrow stands.
My pulse thumps a mile-a-minute. Footsteps sound on the steps, and then…my little sister pops into view. Light brown hair tied in a loose top bun.
Luna hooks her fingers in the straps of a neon green backpack. Looking between all of us, cheeks rosy from the cold, she says, “Hey. Hi. Heidi. Ho. Howdy.” And waves like this is nothing.
Dear World, how did she get here? Why is she here? How did Charlie know? Did she call him? Why didn’t she call me? Do our parents have any idea where she is? Sincerely, a concerned brother.
Farrow beats everyone. “Where the fuck is J.P.?” Her 24/7 bodyguard.
Akara already has a phone to his ear.
I kneel on the couch and careen my head to try and peer out the window. No one else is in the parking lot.
“Oh…” Luna glances at Charlie. “You didn’t tell them yet?”
“I thought you should,” he says, hands in his black slacks.
“What the hell is going on?” I almost growl.
“So yeah.” Luna rocks on the balls of her feet, but keeps eye contact with me. “I kind of ditched J.P.”
I see red. Tunnel-vision on Charlie. The one person who fucking knew. I storm ahead and grab Charlie by the sleeve of his sweater. “Outside. Now.”
26
MAXIMOFF HALE
Ice on the asphalt crunches underneath our soles. We near the curb of the Dairy Queen entrance, and wind whips around us as furiously as I feel.
Farrow and Oscar hover close. The only other two people outside with us. Probably to ensure Charlie and I don’t kill each other.
“She called me!” Charlie yells. “You’re mad at the wrong person!”
“I don’t think I am!” I scream, cold stinging my throat. “You’re the one who could’ve told me. Told us. Told a fucking bodyguard—anyone on Omega should’ve known she’d be here without her own bodyguard.” I shake my head, rage throttling my bones. Screaming at me to drive closer. To shake him.
To make him see.
See how my sister could’ve been hurt. Could’ve been kidnapped, raped or murdered on her journey across the fucking country. Alone.
“You knew she was driving here, and you didn’t tell anyone!” I yell. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”