Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“No. There’s nothing for us to discuss. It’s over. We’re over.”
“The stubborn expression on his face says otherwise.”
That’s too damn bad. Austin Hawthorne no longer calls the shots where I’m concerned. I force my gaze away from him and focus on the stone building looming in front of me. Thirty more steps and we’ll be safely inside.
Ha!
As if there’s any security to be found within the prestigious academy.
Just as I step onto the sidewalk, a voice rises above the din of the parking lot.
“Oh, Edmond. Yes, right there. Yes!”
Loud grunting follows my mother’s impassioned voice.
“Who’s my dirty little whore?”
I freeze as heat slams into my cheeks and the laughter surrounding me grows in volume, echoing in my ears. It’s slowly that I force myself to turn until my gaze locks on Jasper. A smug smile curves his lips as he holds up a small Bluetooth speaker in one hand and his phone in the other.
The sound cuts out before repeating.
“Oh, Edmond. Yes, right there. Yes!”
Grunting.
“Who’s my dirty little whore?”
That’s all it takes for a trapdoor to open, and then I’m in free fall.
“You,” I say in a choked voice. It’s as if I’m being strangled from the inside out.
His expression turns into a full-on grin. He looks so fucking proud of himself, and it hits me like a punch to the gut that he’s the one who did this. He’s the one who played the audio over the loudspeaker for the entire school to hear.
“Why?” It’s a stupid question. If I could snatch the word from the air and suck it back inside, I would.
A hard glint enters his eyes. “A better question would be—why not?”
His response makes me sick.
As we stare, it truly hits me that Jasper will never leave me alone. He’ll always be there to torment me until there’s nothing else left to do but curl up in a tight ball and wave the white flag. And then it’ll get so much worse because he’ll have free rein to do whatever he wants.
When I remain silent, he barks out a laugh. “Here’s a little bit of advice—tell your mom not to fuck our headmaster where anyone can stumble upon them.”
My hands clench uselessly at my sides as rage crashes over me, blinding me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more hatred in my life. It roars through my veins, igniting a firestorm in the pit of my belly. I don’t realize I’m on the move, cutting a direct path to my ex until I’m a few feet away. His smile widens as he straightens to his full height. Even through the thick haze that consumes me, I realize he’s loving this.
All but reveling in it.
The sick bastard craves the attention. It doesn’t matter if it’s positive or negative. He wants my eyes locked on him at all times.
But that realization isn’t enough to stop me.
Once I’m within striking distance, I slam full force into his chest with both hands. He braces for the attack and only stumbles back a step or two. The smirk remains firmly intact. Frustration bubbles up inside me like a geyser. Any moment, I’ll blow and spew all over the parking lot. I’m shaking with unspent fury.
“I hate you so fucking much,” I growl, unable to stop the words from bursting free. It’s like poison rushing through my blood, infecting every cell of my being.
A dark chuckle escapes from him and his eyes glitter with malice. “Bring it on, baby. My new mission in life is to make yours a living hell. If I can’t have you, then I’ll make damn sure no one else does either.”
He’s only reconfirming what I suspected all along. He’s a sick son of a bitch, and I’m kicking myself for not realizing it sooner. For being snowed by his good looks and easy charm. For not running as fast as I could when the façade slowly started to slip and I caught glimpses of the monster lurking beneath.
The crowd surrounding us presses in, tightening the circle. People are pushing and shoving, jostling to get a better view of the altercation. Cell phones have been whipped out and are recording every juicy tidbit. Whatever transpires in the next couple of minutes will only ignite more gossip.
If I were thinking clearly, I’d retreat and ignore the asshole. Instead, I do something I never thought myself capable of. I ball my hand and draw back my arm.
A hush falls over the spectators.
The only thing I can focus on is the satisfaction I’ll feel when my fist slams into his smug face. I don’t care about getting suspended or expelled. In fact, I hope that’s what happens. This place is a prison and I want out.
Just as I’m about to let it fly, a large hand wraps around my clenched fist, halting my movement. With a gasp, I spin around and find Austin. Our gazes lock as air gets clogged in my throat.