Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Chapter 19
I walk down the steps of the Carrington mansion on Monday morning feeling as though this is all just a bad dream. There’s still so much normal in my life, while the rest of it has been flooded with insanity.
I try to put it all to the back of my mind. After all, it’s Monday morning, and I’m going to school like a normal teenager should. There are no gangs, no murder, no terrifying life choices to make, just regular, old school.
Milo’s Aston Martin comes to a stop at the bottom of the grand stair entryway, and I can’t help but smile at him as he hangs his head out of his window and gives me a goofy, lopsided grin. “What’s up, skank?” he calls. “Why do I still need to drive your bitch ass around? I heard someone went and got a sugar daddy who gave her a car.”
I roll my eyes, and I race down the last few stairs. “First of all,” I tell him, walking around the front of his car to get to the passenger side. “If my bitch ass wants a ride to school, then that’s what my bitch ass is going to get. Secondly, I don’t have a sugar daddy, I have a boyfriend who doesn’t know anything about keeping his toys to himself. As soon as I can, I’ll be putting that car back in his name.”
“You know that’s only going to provoke him.”
I groan low, dropping into the Aston Martin and reaching for my seatbelt. “I know,” I grumble. I was up all night trying to figure out a way to get back at him for ‘gifting’ me a car, but all I could come up with was being a stubborn ass and not actually driving it anymore. It’s pathetic, and it’s only going to have him laughing at my attempts, but if I don’t drive it, then I can happily pretend that it isn’t mine.
“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?” Milo laughs, hitting the gas and sending us flying down the long driveway. “But I can’t deny that I love this little thing we’ve got going on. I feel like driving you to school is usually the only time I get to see you anymore. You know, since you decided to bitch out and move to the chick school.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I belong at the girl school nearly as much as you do,” I tease. “Besides, you’re the one always ditching me now for your super hot, douchey boyfriend.”
“Hey,” Milo snaps, a twinkle sparkling in his eyes. “If you’re going to insult Spence, then do it right. He’s not super hot, he’s steamily hot, and he’s only a douche on Wednesdays.”
I roll my eyes. “Who’s the idiot now?”
Milo laughs and relaxes back into his seat, enjoying the ride to Bellevue Springs private. He stops by Starbucks and orders us both a coffee that seems to hit the spot just right. I sit back and enjoy the ride, sipping on my drink, and feeling the weight of the world slowly begin to rest back on my shoulders.
I guess I was fooling myself by pretending that I could forget about it for a day.
Milo glances over at me and narrows his eyes. “What's going on? You look like someone just ran over your cat and then laughed about it while shaking their ass in your face.”
I press my lips into a tight line as I glance over at him and see the concern in his eyes, and I can't help but realize that I’ve been completely overthinking this. Milo is a real friend, even if he was put into my life or not, there’s no denying it. “There’s something I've been meaning to talk to you about.”
His face scrunches up. “Eh? Me?”
“Yeah,” I say, fighting the smile that threatens to tear across my face at his ridiculous response.
He looks back at the road, focusing on where he’s going. “Go ahead caller, you’re on the air.”
I roll my eyes again. This is supposed to be a serious topic, and yet he has me about ready to crack up into embarrassing snorts of laughter. “I, um … okay, don’t hate me, but I sort of went and saw Russo a few days ago.”
Milo’s eyes bug out of his head, and he swerves off the side of the road as I desperately try to keep my coffee from spilling all over his Aston Martin. “The guy who did this?” he demands, pointing out the still visible bruising that covers my skin. Apparently, I did a really shitty job of trying to cover them up.
“Uhh… yeah,” I cringe.
Milo looks at me as though I've lost my mind before throwing his hand out and feeling my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? You must be getting sick to have done such a stupid thing like that.” He drops his hand and looks back out the windshield, shaking his head. “I mean, who’s the fucking idiot now?”