Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
He leaned against the front grill of the Silverado, and I jumped up onto the hood beside him, resting my feet on the bumper.
“So, you and Hendrix live alone?” I asked.
“Since I was fifteen.”
I swallowed around the sudden lump in my throat, picturing a young Zepp grieving for his mother, left to care for his brother. Zepp had to be hard. He didn’t have a choice. The world had made Zepp an island of jagged, impenetrable rocks that no one could pass—unless he let them.
“No one came for you when your mom died?”
He traced a pattern over the dusty hood. “My uncle didn’t tell the state he was fucking off to Florida. And I sure as hell wasn’t going to say anything and get my ass put in foster care.”
“I get it.” I’d been in foster care twice when my mom had overdosed. No one wanted to be at the mercy of the system. “So, you take care of Hendrix?”
“We take care of each other.”
His pain was visceral, lingering in the air like a toxic gas, and I wanted him not to feel so alone at that moment. I grabbed his hand, and he glanced down at our interlocked fingers. “Well, you’re lucky. That you have him and the guys.” Him, Hendrix, Wolf, Bellamy—they were a family of sorts. While I envied it, I was glad he had it.
He shifted, stepping between my legs, and placing his hands on my knees. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
Those dark eyes searched mine. There was a desperation in them, a panic I’d never seen before. “Do I have you?”
My heart thumped, tripping in my chest like a lovesick little girl. His hands skimmed down my sides to my waist. I didn’t need to think about it. I knew he had me, but saying the words felt monumental. It wasn’t a simple “you have me,” it was also an “I need you.”
“Because I need this.” His fingers swept my cheek.
Vulnerability equated to pain, and it felt like I was holding out my heart, ready to place it in Zepp’s palm where he could easily crush it. Did I trust him not to? It was a simple question, but the truth equated to me jumping off a cliff and hoping he’d catch me. “You have me,” I whispered.
His lips pressed to mine. He kissed me like I was oxygen and he was suffocating. It was so much more than a kiss; it felt like a promise, unbreakable and binding. His hands went to my hips, tugging me tight against him.
The sudden explosion of a shotgun rang out, sending dogs barking and howling. I tore away from Zepp, my heart almost exploding through my ribs.
“Hey! Git outta my yard.” Another loud bang.
Zepp grabbed my hand, and we took off, sprinting through the rusted heaps to the fence. I climbed over the tall chain link, and Zepp followed, dragging me across the road to the Shit Shack.
“You couldn’t have warned me about the crazy redneck who might pop up?”
He leaned against the rotting siding to catch his breath. “He’s usually passed out drunk this time of night.”
“Outta breath there?” I smirked at him. “You need to stop smoking so much.”
”Why? Worried?”
I took the helmet from the handlebars of his bike before throwing a leg over it. “No.”
“Liar.”
* * *
Friday meant school spirit had been vomited all over the halls of Dayton High. Banners hung over doorways. Red and blue ribbons were taped onto the football players’ lockers. The cheerleaders pranced around in their skirts, ponytails tied back with prissy bows. The entire thing was gag-worthy.
That morning, Zepp stood at my locker, smirking. “Ready to cage the panthers, Roe?” He chuckled, then slapped a palm over my chest, leaving behind a Cage the Panthers spirit sticker.
“I’m not going today. You can eat shit.” I peeled the sticker off, putting it on him.
He pushed away from the wall of lockers and started along beside me. “You’re always so angry.”
“Tell me this shit doesn’t put you in a bad mood.” I waved my hand around at the decorations, and Zepp ripped a wad of tinsel off one of the lockers.
“I find it entertaining.”
Wolf rounded the corner. A string of ribbons hung around his neck as a makeshift necklace—the cardboard medallion hanging from it covered with glitter and his football number.
Zepp flicked it. “You’re such a pussy.”
Wolf shoved his shoulder. “Shut up, dude. The girl that made this has big titties and a big ass. I’ll wear it if it gets me laid.”
A group of deep laughs came from behind us, followed by Chase calling my name. On instinct, I turned around.
He shoved his hands into his pocket. “Can I talk to you?”
I had nothing to say to Chase. He’d pissed me off. Crossed a line. “No, fuck off.”
“Ah, come on, Moe.” He started toward me. “I just want to apologize.”