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 climb out and jog down to my house, keeping my eyes peeled for my parents. I just need in my room for a minute.
Jumping up into the tree between mine and Hawke’s houses, I scale it until I reach my bedroom. I lean over the thigh-high fence and open my French doors, leaping into my room.
Laptop. Maybe some makeup. I go through the list in my head as I grab things.
Hesitating at my underwear drawer, I pluck out another pair of cute ones. Just in case. I don’t know if I’ll be in another situation where someone is watching me undress in a shower, but there’s nothing wrong with being ready for it.
Tossing the stuff on the bed, I grab my backpack and stuff everything inside, taking a body spray and a pair of earrings that Juliet bought me too.
I stop, remembering. Razors. I need replacement cartridges. At least one. I tiptoe to my door and peek into the hallway, spotting my little brother coming up the stairs. He has a Polar seltzer in one hand and a bag of Fritos in the other. He stuffs his face inside, grabbing chips with his mouth.
When he reaches the top, I grab him, whip him around, and he starts to shout, but I plant a hand over his mouth.
“Where’s the mark?” I growl in his ear.
“Mum muh muh mum.”
I remove my hand.
“In the kitchen,” he whispers with his mouth full of chips.
“Is he armed?” I ask.
“Always.”
We listen for our father below. A cabinet closes, then the door off the kitchen into the garage.
“I’ve exceeded my energy consumption,” I tell James.
“Energy conversion power recharge?” he suggests.
“Negative. My suit’s in the cleaners.”
“What are we going to do?” he cries.
“Radioactive spiders?”
“Too dangerous,” he gripes. “You remember what happened last time.”
“Hammer?”
“It’s mine,” my kid brother Thor snarls.
Just then, my dad passes through the foyer below, heading into the living room.
“Oh, he stalks.” I back up, taking my kid brother deeper into the hallway with me. “He might get me this time.”
“We need Bruce,” he presses.
“Banner or Wayne?”
And then both of us say in sync, “Banner.”
I release him, and he turns, smiling.
I ruffle his blond hair, exactly the color of our mom’s. “Make the call,” I tell him.
He throws me a salute. “Happy birthday,” he says before diving into his bedroom, probably to play a video game.
The one consolation in this family is that my dad finds about as much common ground with my brother as he does with me anymore. He does love us, though. And we know that.
Walking cautiously, I grab a new razor cartridge from the bathroom and sink back into my room, about to grab my vibrator and get out of here, but a gorgeous blonde is sitting on the end of my bed. I close my door, squealing as quietly as I can.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, running and throwing my arms around Quinn.
“Hey.” She squeezes me tightly, rocking me side to side.
My dad’s little sister just started her second year at Notre Dame. I thought I wouldn’t see her until the holidays.
“What are you doing home?” I ask, pressing my finger to my lips so she knows to be quiet.
“It’s fall break,” she says. “I have a long weekend. I was coming over to meet you on your way home from school, but I saw you sneaking into your bedroom, so I did the same.”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to run into your brother.”
“You mean, your father?”
“Whatever.” I roll my eyes. “I’m the Weston prisoner for Rivalry Week, so I’ve been over there the past few days, but it’s Ditch Day, so I snuck home to get some things.”
Her brown eyes widen. “You’re the hostage? First girl since—”
“Only girl other than you know who,” I correct her.
I take in her hair, a few inches longer and parted in the middle. Different than it was this past summer. Her skin glows, the tiny mole on her cheek beautiful against her flushed cheeks.
“Well, you look unharmed,” she finally says, surveying me up and down.
I nod, putting the rest of my things in my backpack. “It’s kind of peaceful there, if you can believe it.”
“Are you heading back now?”
I nod, wiggling my eyebrows. “And you’re coming with me. It’s my day.”
“Mm-hmm,” she says. “I know.”
She pulls a box off the bed that I didn’t see sitting there.
She hands me a birthday present, and I flip the lid off the box, removing a red leather jacket with silver buckles and zippers. I hold it up, looking at the little thing. “Wow.”
“It’s a motorcycle jacket.”
I laugh, dropping the box and holding the jacket by the shoulders. The leather is really thin, and I’m not sure I’ll even be able to get it zipped up.
“Not sure this will protect me from anything,” I tease. “It looks like it might not fit.”