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)
By the time he pulls into the alleyway behind Quinn’s shop, we’re already fighting.
“Always, always, always wear a fucking condom,” he scolds.
“I will! I’m going to!”
“No, you’re not,” he retorts, slamming his door and finding his key to the backdoor of our aunt’s shop. “Not after you had her without one now. You act like Dad didn’t show us every TV movie on teen pregnancy or YouTube video on STDs.”
I don’t bother telling him that she’s on birth control, and we were both virgins, because he already knows.
“Get yourself in love,” I tell him. “And in a monogamous relationship, and you can have fun just like me.”
“Monog…” He gags. “Relationship.” Another gag followed by a whine, “Dad, he’s using four-syllable words again. Make him stop.”
I chuckle as he unlocks the door, and I follow him inside.
He leads me through the kitchen, to the front of the shop, and walks toward the mirror. He reaches up, behind the frame, and looks at me. I watch as he pulls something, and the mirror clicks open, swinging inward like a door.
My stomach flips. He’s showing me where Dylan escaped to the night the Rebels vandalized the school. The place Hawke talked about when he came to see me.
Kade steps inside, and I touch behind the mirror in the same spot, finding the tiny lever. I follow him, and he leaves the mirror open as I look down the long hallway with black walls. There’s light ahead—daylight, I think—and I can smell the water and the subtle subterranean chill that basements and caves have.
We walk in, and he doesn’t speak as I look around and absorb. A hallway appears to my right, and I think I see more doorways—more rooms—before we descend a few steps and the hideout opens up to a great room. Dim light spills through windows high above, and I see Latin in massive white letters written on the wall ahead.
Vivamus, moriendum est.
I type it into my search bar, but Kade translates before I can finish. “Let us live, since we must die,” he tells me.
There’s a couch, an entertainment center with a TV, and I spot game controllers on the coffee table. To my left, there’s a small kitchen—fridge, stove, sink, and a counter with a couple of stools.
Kade moves to the door beyond, and I follow him down another hallway, seeing another floor-length mirror ahead and kitchen staff moving through Rivertown, preparing to open for lunch.
“Damn,” I say.
They hustle in and out of the kitchen, a guy with a mop and bucket moving toward us but not seeing us.
“What is this place?” I ask, looking around and drifting back to the great room.
“Hawke found it,” he says. “Quinn doesn’t know about it yet. We wanted to wait for everyone to turn eighteen.”
I stand next to the couch, taking it all in, and yeah, I’m thinking I shouldn’t tell Farrow about this anytime soon. He could try to take it, given it could be quite an asset to his career path. I’m not sure why Hawke or anyone else needs it, but I might find out myself soon enough.
Kade leans against the kitchen counter, watching me. “I’m…sorry about everything,” he says.
I look over at him, appreciating the sincerity in his eyes. He didn’t need to say it. Maybe last night, but I think we understand each other now. I’m just glad to move on from it.
“Me too.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I never meant—”
“I know.”
He nods, not needing to relive it again. I never wanted him to feel like a third wheel when we were kids.
“I’ll get your Chicago application reinstated.”
I smirk. “You mean you’ll have Dad make a call?”
“No,” he interrupts. “I’ll call one of our grandfathers. Dad will kill me if he finds out what I did.”
I laugh, but then it finally occurs to me. “You got me into Clarke because that’s where you’re going.”
He doesn’t reply. He just looks away.
It’s pretty impressive, actually. He got me into a college. I thought for sure someone was going to have to get him into college. I need to read that essay that admissions guy gushed about. Maybe someone else wrote it.
“We think Rivertown was a home—a townhouse—some years ago,” he explains. “This was a secret hideout. A speakeasy or something.”
He tells me about Winslet, the twins, and the possible suicide of one or maybe not. How Weston started the prisoner exchange to get the same Pirate girl across the river where they exacted revenge but no one is sure on how. We only know she disappeared from there. All that I knew, but what I didn’t know about was Grudge Night and how they came for her in this place first. Or the cell phones they left here.
Maybe they were going to end it that night. And maybe they realized they wanted to carry the fun on a little longer.