Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Actually, they went further than I ever dreamed. I wanted Ashton Scott broken and bleeding on the floor, begging for it to stop. The plan was to set him up as the fall guy for all our crimes, and a few we made up. He’d end up ostracized, alone, and expelled. Then after enough strikes, when the bastards who gave him a fake alibi couldn’t take it anymore, one of them would grant his final punishment and reveal him for the brutal rapist he was.
That was the plan, but killing him was so much better.
One down, four to go.
“I’m so sorry, Katie.” I plastered on a sympathetic expression. “I know this is hard on everyone. We can all use something to smile about, because there won’t be many of those chances coming.”
I’ll see to it.
“Let’s just chill, have fun, and get two more of these martinis.”
“Now that’s what I want to hear.”
I flicked over her shoulder. “Oops. I spoke too soon.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
Standing in the entryway, shrugging off their coats and tossing them at the doorman, was Gabriella, Piper, Everleigh, and Saylor. Each of them wore matching satin short pajamas in different colors. They were here for a party.
My lips pressed to a thin, twitching line.
“What the hell?” Katie split a kissing couple apart, shoving them aside bearing down on her besties. “What are you doing here? You weren’t invited.”
“I’m always invited, Katie.” Saylor flashed her a wide, smirking smile. “I’m Saylor Burkhardt.”
“Yeah, the same Saylor fucking Burkhardt who said we needed space while I figured out how to be a friend. Are you on meds for that split personality disorder, or is everyone still pretending you’re saying one thing and doing another is normal?”
“Still pretending,” she sang, bopping Katie on the nose.
“Ugh.” Everleigh curled her lip. “A slumber party theme? We heard it but didn’t believe it. We grew out of slumber parties when we were eight. So childish, Katie.”
“Is that why there are twice as many people here than came to your stupid reality tv party? Wasn’t that over by ten o’clock?”
“Because my parents broke it up,” Everleigh snapped. “It was ten times better than this party that you basically stole from Saylor.”
My gaze traveled off them, searching for and finding a handsome, sculpted figure in nothing but silk drawstring pants. Rafael winked at me.
“I am not doing this with you guys,” Katie said. “If you came to start shit, turn around and walk out.”
“The only one making a scene is you,” Saylor said. “We came to drink, dance, and party. Stop being a terrible host and show your besties where the mojitos are.”
“Find them yourself. I’m not the cruise director.” Katie flounced off to the dance floor, plastering herself on Dean in a heartbeat.
Why did I so enjoy that Katie treated everyone, even Saylor, like a Dreg?
Looking around the party that was for sure better than a stupid reality tv theme, Saylor and her crew headed into the dining room. I caught Rafael’s eye and nodded.
Of course Saylor and the Royal Bitches came. I sent them invitations just in case crashing and sticking it to Katie didn’t cross their minds first.
Ten minutes later, they crossed the foyer loaded down with salted caramel cocktails, curiously sizing up the fort. They didn’t think the party was childish at all. I knew envy when I saw it.
Saylor slowed down, fixing on Rafael. The man was standing there like a tall hot cocoa cooled with mocha sex ice cubes. She was looking where everyone else was, but Rafael was looking at her.
Crooking a finger, he tossed her a smirk that melted every panty in a ten-mile radius. Saylor promptly ditched her friends and slinked up to him.
I turned away, leaving them behind. That was my cue.
Outside, the pillow fights were in full swing, and I was surrounded by enough naked people to prove it.
Katie’s backyard was a sprawling aquatic paradise. Between the Olympic-sized pool fed by six fountains, the water slide, two hot tubs, the pool house, cabanas, and the separate indoor pool, this was all the water park you needed.
Pillows claimed the lounger and partiers claimed everything else. They whooped, roared, and catcalled as two topless Royal girls battled it out for the victory of keeping their bottoms. The best thing about my ideas for the party: everyone was too distracted by boobs, wangs, and sex to give a crap about me.
No one glanced in my direction as I weaved through the crowd, coming out where concrete gave way to lawn, and clambering down the small dip to the path. My feet were soundless on the tickling grass. My breaths hot pants drying my lips. Anticipation swelled as I ducked into the indoor pool.
The space was as spectacular as the rest of the mansion. Molded after a Roman bathhouse, columns held up the second floor, and the pool’s fountains were topped with resting lions. I scurried past the fellas to the back door. Cracking it open, I waited.