Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Motherfuckers.
“If you weren’t William’s daughter, I’d have called the cops.”
The cops. He would have called the cops when he didn’t even have proof? What an asshole.
He shook his head with a disappointed frown. “I’m sorry, Drew. But I have no choice but to fire you. William’s daughter or not.”
He was firing me. With no proof.
“Whatever.” I tossed my cap onto the counter and brushed past Eddie to grab my bag. This was unbelievable. Now my dad was going to crawl even further up my ass because God knew Eddie wouldn’t keep this a secret. Just great.
As soon as I got home, I stormed into the kitchen and grabbed a Rainbow Push-Pop from the freezer, then went to the living room and flopped back on the stuffy couch. With each angry bite I took from that popsicle, my teeth hurt.
My phone buzzed again and again. Father flashing over the screen. He’d evidently heard from Eddie, which was why I didn’t open any of the messages. I wasn’t in the mood for his wannabe parental lecture right now over something I hadn’t even done—just like cheating on that test at Black Mountain.
I took another chunk out of the Push-Pop. My dad was going to be such a dick about this, and that made me hate Bellamy with a passion I rarely felt. The buzzing quieted for a moment, before sounding again a few minutes later. But this time, it wasn’t my dad.
Unknown number: Sorry to hear you lost your job.
Unknown number: Baby girl.
Simmering rage shot through my veins as I stamped my fingers over the screen: Me: How did you get my number?
Unknown number: A magician never reveals his secrets….
I’d had every intention of keeping my head down and getting through the next two months in this hell hole with as little drama as possible. Until now. Now Bellamy West was top of my shit list. He thought I was some spoiled rich girl, well, he was about to learn exactly how rich girls played.
* * *
The next day at lunch, I watched from across the bustling cafeteria as the token bad boy of Dayton sank to his stool, glaring at me. Anger bubbled beneath my skin. Not because I’d been fired, but for the simple fact that he’d had the audacity to get me fired.
Nora unwrapped her sandwich, then lifted a brow as she nodded across the lunchroom. “So, I’m guessing that hasn’t gotten any better?”
“Define better? He got me fired for “dealing weed at Franks”.”
“Oh. Yeah.” Diane, one of Nora’s friends, shoved a forkful of wilted lettuce into her mouth before turning to stare at them. “I heard that...”
“What the...” I threw up my hands. “Do I look like the kind of person who deals weed?”
“I mean,” Nora shrugged, “what does someone who deals weed look like anyway?”
“Them, Nora.” I nodded toward the guys. “It looks like them…” Tattoos and piercings and a dangerous edge that was far too enticing.
“Shit…” Nora mumbled. “You made eye contact, Diane. You whore.”
Bellamy pushed up from their table and approached ours, jaw set as he skirted around the corner, then behind me. The intoxicating scent of his cologne swirled around me seconds before his hands landed on my shoulders and warm breath touched my neck.
“Gotta problem?” His rough voice dragged over me like a lover’s caress, sending a bolt of adrenaline straight through my chest. There was something wrong with me.
“You know I do.” I twisted on the stool to meet his smirk.
He leaned over, gripping the table behind me and caging me in with his arms. “Do tell, baby girl…”
I hated him for getting me fired, and I hated this ridiculous reaction my body had to him. “You’re an asshole. You got me fired.”
“To be fair, I did tell you not to mess with me.” The slight tilt of his head was annoyingly sexy.
“I wasn’t selling weed,” I said, but I’d sure as hell make him regret not doing his research.
“Right…” He huffed a laugh. “Just like you’re twenty-one and your name’s Genevieve, huh?”
Like he gave a shit about my name. Of course, the decision to hook up with a stranger was biting me in the ass. Why wouldn’t it? Everything else in my life was a shitshow.
He stroked a finger over my cheek. “Know what I think, Drucella Morgan? That you’re a really bad liar.”
“You know what I think?” I did not need to find this guy exciting. Or rise to his challenge. But I did. “That I’m about to be the worst thing to happen to you, pretty boy.”
Without warning, his hand clamped down on the back of my neck, and with one simple tug, he brought my lips mere centimeters from his. “Try me, baby girl. Try me…”
I found it hard to pull away from him, and the moment I did, I missed the force of his grip.