Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152045 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 760(@200wpm)___ 608(@250wpm)___ 507(@300wpm)
I sent that a few weeks ago. Maybe on his turf, without the reminders of home, he’d want to see me? Fat chance. The only way I really see him anymore is through pictures, when his parents see him and post on their own profiles.
He was in St. Matthew’s alumni magazine last May, just a picture of current students, including him, hunched over lab tables. He was working alone. I didn’t show Kade the picture.
I look down and see the text I started to type out last week when I found out what Kade was planning for tonight.
I nee—
But I’d stopped typing, because why should I warn him? What have I gotten from Hunter or Kade Caruthers for my loyalty?
I raise my eyes, seeing Kade look up at me. My heart skips the tiniest beat. He’s looking at me. I know, because the only thing he ever notices about me anymore is my absence. That’s when I matter.
Backing away from the podium, he lets the coach finish up, and then he throws up his arms at me like “why isn’t your ass in the bleachers hanging on my every word like the rest of our family?”
I fold my arms over my chest and bring a hand up, feigning a yawn. His smile widens, and I can see his body shake with a chuckle.
“Fuck it.” I tuck my phone into my pocket again. I’ll go tonight, because I’m bored. Not because I’m curious.
Leaving the locker room, I jog back down the hallway, past the display case, the men’s locker room, and the cafeteria. If I can get out of here before the rally ends, I can get home, grab my car, and be gone again before my dad sees me. Or my muddy motorcycle.
As soon as I push through the door and step outside, though, I see my father leaning against my bike. I pause mid-step, my stomach sinking instantly.
He stands twenty-five yards away, his legs crossed at the ankles and his hands resting in the pockets of his black bomber jacket. He stares at me.
I flit my eyes left and right, hearing the thundering sound of people descending the steel bleachers as the event ends. I don’t see my mom yet.
Chin up, I walk toward him. I’ll handle it like I always do.
But as soon as I get close enough to speak, he stops me before I can get the words out.
“Give me your bike keys,” he says, holding out his hand.
I open my mouth.
“Now,” he barks.
People are spilling out of the stadium, and I know he won’t listen. Not tonight. I grab my keys out of my jacket pocket and hand them over.
“And it wasn’t Aro who told me,” he points out.
I didn’t think it was.
He stands up straight, digging in his eyebrows. “I know how to use an app, thank you.”
“You’re tracking me?”
“You leave me no choice!” he growls, heat rising in his angry eyes. “I’ll need to find your body when you break your damn neck.”
“You and Mom were racing at my age.”
“Not motorcycles.”
Right. That’s fine then. He gets to decide the amount of danger that’s acceptable.
He walks around my bike, inspecting the condition. I narrow my eyes. “You train Noah.”
His protégé from Colorado who’s only a few years older than me.
My dad doesn’t reply, simply squats down to check the tires.
“I want you to train me.” I catch myself shifting on my feet and stop. “I want on your team.”
He rises, his eyes zeroing in on me as he rounds the bike.
“Will you say no to James, too, when he gets older?” I blurt out.
He knows I’m right. He knows he doesn’t have an argument. He won’t tell his son no.
He stops in front of me, unblinking. “I love you,” he says. “You and me have been in sync since the day you were born.” And he holds up his two fingers, twisting them around each other, because until recently, we were that close. “But like me, you do not think. You’re reckless, irresponsible, and you do not listen. I am not going to let you fuck up like I did—getting caught up in bad scenes and bad influences and risking your life before you’ve grown up.”
I stare at him for a split-second before I start shaking my head. Just like I told Aro. I have to make myself smaller just because I’m not a guy. It’s not fair.
“You can’t stop me.”
I say the words out loud before I can contain them, and I watch his spine go steel-rod straight. “What did you say?”
His gaze pierces my skin, and I feel like I’m sinking into the pavement.
He comes in close. “Say it again,” he tells me, leaning in. “I didn’t hear you.”
I drop my eyes, clenching my teeth.
“Say it again.”
I dart my eyes up at him. “When I graduate, I’m going to do it anyway, with or without you.” I keep my tone in check this time. “You can wish me luck and pray I survive, or you can train me and make sure I’m the best.”