Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23270 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 116(@200wpm)___ 93(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“The best thing you can do right now is stay away from them,” he says as he licks his lips. “Maybe even me, too.”
I’m shocked into silence as he leans in just a bit closer. His voice is meant to be threatening, but it sends a shiver of desire down my body and I shudder against him.
“And I know exactly how old you are. I’ve been counting the days.”
He releases me quickly like I’ve burned him. I stand there stunned, wondering what got into him. He’s never talked to me like that. No one has.
“Stay put,” he commands as he points to the floor.
Then he stomps out of the room and slams the door behind him. All I can do is stand there with my body on fire and my panties shamefully wet. All he had to do was put his hands on me and my body began to ready itself for him.
I grit my teeth as angry tears sting my eyes. For one second I thought he might just kiss me, but instead he scolded me like a child and left me here all alone. I give myself one second of self-pity, then I force all of my emotions to harden.
He thinks he can tell me what to do? I’ll show him what rebelling looks like.
Chapter Two
Honor
I make my way to my bedroom and go into the closet. It’s far too big for me, but many others wouldn’t agree. I stopped fighting the stylist long ago. Normally I wear what I’m told to. It’s chosen from a list of approved clothes and laid out for me like I’m a child. I could wear something new every day for a year and still not wear everything in here. And it’s sad because none of it is my style. It’s all so clean cut and professional, but I was raised on a ranch in Tennessee. I’m more comfortable in cut-off shorts and dirty boots, but that’s not in the dress code. Right now I’m worked up, so I’m going to wear whatever I want. Or at least something that resembles what I’d like to wear. It takes me a while, but I finally find a pair of jeans and a strappy top that is supposed to be worn under something. Not today. It’s hot out and I’m going to dress accordingly, even if I don’t go outside.
I go to my desk and dig around for a pair of scissors. I smile as I grab them and go to work on my jeans.
When I’m finished, I put the clothes on and look in the mirror. I feel more like myself right now than I have in a long time. My pink bra straps are visible under the top, but it’s cute. I turn and see that I’ve cut the jeans too short, but I don’t care. Washington will probably report this back to my dad, but he doesn’t seem like the type to take care of it himself rather than tattle on me. What could he even do? They’re shorts and my vagina is covered. Pretty much.
I slip on some flip-flops and grab my sunglasses and push them up into my hair. I grab my phone and see it’s time to meet with Chad Diamond. This was one of the reasons I’d gone to see my dad this morning. I wanted to see if I could get out of this meeting. He’s supposed to help me pick the college I’m going to attend. I wanted him to be here to help me weigh all my options and see which would fit me best.
I had thought none would suit me, but now I’m beginning to rethink things. Either I need to get away from Washington and his cold shoulder, or I need to find out if he’s so pissed off because he wants me, too. I feel the attraction between us and I watch the struggle in his eyes. I’ve watched him every day for three years, and I see that something in him has changed. Maybe he’s like me and just needs a little push.
Either way, my meeting with Chad is going to help with that. He’s going into his senior year at Brown University. He’s cute and has asked me on a date before, but I turned him down because my heart wanted Washington. Also, I think some guys show interest in me because of who my dad is. Maybe I’ll invite Chad to my birthday party. I still need to reschedule it. If I could cancel it, I would. I’d rather do something small, but Dad seems to think this is worthy of a big celebration.
I grab my messenger bag and head for the door. When I swing it open, I see Washington standing there.
“Freedom is on the move,” I chirp before he can say it into his radio.