Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
She was one of the few people who knew the truth—or most of it—of what happened two years ago, and she’d used it against me. Twisted it until she single-handedly had taken a match to my relationship with Hendrix, to my life.
I clenched my fists at my sides, using every ounce of restraint I possessed not to smash her face into the sink right then. “You know I didn’t cheat on him, Jessica.”
“That’s not what everyone else said.” A sick smile spread across her red lips. “And poor Hendrix. He was so heartbroken.”
Yeah, so heartbroken that he eventually fucked her desperate ass. The thought made me sick, but I refused to let her see how much she got to me.
I may have been gone for two years, but I was still Dayton through and through… “I owe you a world of pain, Jessica. The next time you corner me in the bathroom like the bad little bitch you think you are, I’ll make that bird nose of yours even more crooked.” I flashed her a nasty grin. “That’s a promise.”
Before she could respond, I shoulder-checked her hard enough that she stumbled into the trashcan, then I made my way out of the restroom.
I just needed to keep my head down, finish my final year, get my little sister out of foster care, and move on with my life. No matter how much I wanted to go in there and bleed her of every drop of retribution I was owed, I couldn’t afford to get arrested.
I rounded the corner and walked right into someone.
“Shit.” I crouched to collect the books that had scattered the floor, glancing up at the underclassman guy wearing an American flag shirt. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I passed the books over just as Kyle hurried up, his glasses slightly skewed as he tapped the guy on the shoulder. “If you value your life,” he whispered, “run.”
“What?” The guy frowned at Kyle, and I got it. Kyle seemed extremely dense right then.
The chatter in the hallway dimmed like birds quieting in the presence of danger, and I tensed. I knew exactly who that hush hailed.
“Run!” Kyle whisper-shouted before shooting past us toward the men’s restroom.
The guy glanced over his shoulder, then took off, too. People in the crowded hallway fell over themselves to get out of Hendrix’s way.
I’d been too shocked at seeing him last night to really take him in, but as his gaze homed in on me like a lion selecting a wildebeest from the herd, my heart thumped out a broken beat in my chest, limping and wounded. The boy who used to be mine was more devasting than I remembered. Taller and broader and, if possible, even more beautiful.
The litany of tattoos that crept beneath the sleeve of his black T-shirt was old, but the ones winding their way up one side of his neck were new. Thick and black, like the taint of Dayton had leached into his skin, spreading like a disease
But the thing that really punched me in the gut was the collection of ratty bracelets decorating his left wrist.
Ten to be exact. I’d given him one for every birthday since we were six, outside of the last two I’d missed, and the fact that he hadn’t cut them off hurt in the sweetest way.
The five-minute bell rang. People darted to class, but Hendrix kept coming, his attention solely on me.
A tiny shred of panic rose within me. I’d never been on the receiving end of his hatred, and I didn’t want to be, which was why I ducked back into the empty bathroom.
The door had barely swung shut before the noise of it cracking against the cinder block wall had me whirling around.
Hendrix loomed in the doorway, his wild, blue gaze aimed right at me as he took a step forward, then another. I didn’t realize I’d backed away from him until my back hit the wall.
The scent of pine and citrus invaded my lungs as he trapped me against his hard body. My thighs pressed together at the memory of us together like this a hundred different ways. Clothed, naked, him holding me, fucking me, but this wasn’t that. There was nothing sweet or sexual about this. He was angry.
“I miss you, too?” He inched closer, his warm breath teasing my face. “Really, Lola?”
Before I could respond, he slapped a heavy palm against the wall beside my head.
“Why the fuck would you write that?” His gaze burned into me like he could see every raw emotion, every sordid lie lingering between us. Everything. Except for the truth.
“Because I do.” I missed the version of him I’d loved. The version that didn’t so clearly hate me. “I miss the boy who wrote on those walls.”
“You don’t get to miss him.” His voice boomed in the small space, startling me into silence. “That boy you claim to miss wasn’t good enough for you. Remember?” His jaw ticced. “You didn’t even tell me good-fucking-bye after everything you did to me.”