Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Well, damn, I didn’t know you would actually forgive her for what she did. Especially considering…” He trails off, looking anywhere besides me.
“Considering what?”
“Nah, man, I shouldn’t tell you.”
“Tell me, what? Out with it, Ty.”
“Man, I probably should’ve told you this earlier, but I didn’t want to make things worse, but that night… Kennedy came on to me.”
“What?”
“Yeah, man, she begged me to fuck her, and I wouldn’t. She left so quickly because I rejected her. She wanted to be with you and thought if she used me to make you jealous, you would finally notice her.” Ty releases a laugh. “Funny, seems she got everyone’s attention.”
For one whole minute, I just sit there. I don’t even think I’m breathing. The content feeling fades away, and the darkness, the hate, it all comes flooding back to me. In an instant, my thoughts flip. It’s like being struck by lightning.
“Sorry, I didn’t tell you sooner,” Ty’s voice pierces the fog.
I can’t even speak, my jaw is clenched so hard, my hands are curled into tight fists, and the blood in my veins is itching for violence. I’m afraid if I get up right now, something bad is going to happen, and yet I can’t fucking sit here and wait.
I’m furious, she fucking played me. It wasn’t just her getting in the fucking car and driving drunk. She did it for a selfish reason, got in the car and left, unable to wait for me, probably because she didn’t want me to know that she tried to get my best friend to fuck her.
My sister died because Kennedy wanted to be a selfish fucking bitch.
Shoving off the bench, I start running in the direction Kennedy went. I’m consumed with a need to make her pay, to rip her heart from her fucking chest.
If she thought she could play me, soften me, with her little pity story about cutting, or use my emotions against me, she thought wrong.
“Jackson, wait up. Where are you going?” Ty yells behind me.
I don’t even look back as I continue walking. “To find her!”
24
Kennedy
He’s here. Why is he here? My feet can’t seem to move fast enough as I sprint down the sidewalk and through the throngs of people congesting my route of escape.
“Where’s Jackson now? Who’s going to protect you?” I can hear his voice ringing in my ears, feel his fingers digging into my flesh. Tears prick my eyes at the memory.
I’m drowning, suffocating in fear. Walking a little faster, I dart through the crowd and almost sag to the ground once I’m past everyone. Gripping the straps of my backpack, I start walking again, but I’ve only taken one step before someone grabs me by my backpack, hauling me backward. A scream lodges in my throat but becomes nothing more than a muffled squeak.
“Did you think you could use me? That you could play me?” Jackson’s rage-filled voice burns the tips of my ears. I try to twist around in his grip, but it’s no use as I almost trip over my own feet while he drags me behind him. What is happening?
Tugging me around a corner, I don’t realize that I’m trapped between two buildings until Jackson shoves me against the brick exterior. Like a bear, his body looms over mine, blocking out any slivers of sunlight.
I shiver at the feral look in Jackson’s eyes, and that’s when I see him. Tylor. Oh, god. This can’t be happening. Placing a hand against my stomach, I try to combat the need to vomit. I have to get away, have to escape before he hurts me.
“Answer me!” Jackson yells into my face. His fingers dig into my upper arms as he gives me a shake as if he is trying to shake a response out of me. His grip is so tight, my arms hurt. The same hands that caressed me last night, now leave bruises on my skin.
“I…” Is the only thing I can get past the lump in my throat. Only then do his words trickle into my fear-stricken mind. “Did you think you could use me? That you could play me?” What is he talking about? I shake my head, trying to tell him that I don’t understand, but he only shoves me against the wall again. My head bounces off the brick, and I welcome the pain. It’s better than the fear, better than the throbbing ache in my chest.
My vision blurs with tears, but I can still make out Tylor standing right next to us, a sinister smirk on his face.
“You’re a selfish bitch, and I can’t believe that I fell for your act, that I even considered forgiving you.”
I’m so confused.
“What?” I ask, my voice cracking in two at the end.
“Come on, killer, you didn’t think I wasn’t going to tell him, did you?” Tylor’s voice is like acid touching my skin, and when he touches his crotch, bile rises in my throat. I want to scream, to fight, to tell Jackson that whatever he told him isn’t true, but I can’t get the words out.