Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“It’s fine. Go watch a movie. I’m gonna shower and change.”
Brody nods and goes to his room.
“He’s trying, you know. He knows what you have to deal with.”
“He got kicked out of school.” I huff and walk into the kitchen, more than a little fed up with everything right now. I unclip the strap around my thigh and put the knife on the counter. She looks at it, and her brows pinch.
“What did you do?” She picks it up. “It has blood on it.”
“His blood,” I tell her.
She drops the knife like it’s on fire and shakes her head.
“You know better than that, Chanel. Why would you do that? Are you wanting us to bury you?” She grinds her teeth and then takes in a long breath.
“No. Brody shouldn’t have been there. He knows better.” I try to keep my voice low, so Brody doesn’t hear me.
Merci shakes her head, glances back to the knife, then whispers, “What did you do?”
I shrug, as if it’s nothing. “I put the knife to his throat.”
She gasps so loudly that Brody opens his door and looks out. When he sees it’s just us, he goes back into his room and shuts the door again.
“This can’t happen. You need to pack your shit and we need to work out where you can go, because now you’re on his hit list, and we know everyone who turns up on his list ends up dead.”
“I have nowhere to go,” I respond on an exasperated sigh.
And I’m not lying when I say those words. I literally have nowhere to go. Our parents were both only children, and they hardly had any friends. It was Brody and me, no one else. It’s pretty much the same thing now, the only difference being that I have Merci, who’s practically a sister to me. She’s helped me so much with Brody. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her.
I shrug, and she does this thing where she sucks her bottom lip in, then pops it out, before she turns and walks back to our tattered little couch, sitting down and groaning.
“He will kill you.” I should be worried because what she says is what we know is the truth. Lucas is, as he says, a viper, with large extendable fangs that can reach anywhere.
A viper hunts, they strike, then they kill.
And I absolutely hate the fact that he’s the first man ever in my life to make me feel something other than it’s just sex. Yes, it would still be just that, but why did my stomach flutter when he was near?
And why is he so good-looking?
It has to be because of the power he holds, right? Or maybe it’s just my concern and my body is acting a different way to protect myself. Yeah, that has to be it.
I understand the appeal toward him now, though. Why he’s whispered about. I always thought it was a joke. I mean, some women even want to risk their own lives to be with him. What a bunch of idiots.
“As long as he doesn’t kill Brody, that’s all I care about.”
Merci shakes her head at that. I’ve never really lived this life for me. I dropped out of school to look after Brody. I sold myself—my body—so I could put a roof over our heads and food in our mouths. When you love someone and you come from nothing, you will do anything possible just to have something. No matter how shoddy this place is, it’s what we call home. And to Brody, it’s his safe place. No work comes here, no drama comes here—it’s just Merci and us.
Until Lucas.
“You know Brody’s right. He is old enough now to help. To pitch in. You were what? Seventeen, when you started?” I nod my head. It’s been years, and I stopped for a while, then started back up again. The money was good, and in the end, it was the only way. It’s like a hit of some drug. You tell yourself it’s only once, but you keep going back for more, and more.
“I don’t want the same for Brody,” I tell her. “You know this.”
“Brody isn’t going to sell his body.” Merci waves a hand, dismissing me.
“No, just his soul to the damn devil,” I complain, already knowing the truth. I bite the inside of my cheek as I look at her.
“That may be true, but I think that devil wants your soul more than his, hunny.”
I have a feeling her words are true—that it’s me he wants, and I don’t know how I feel about that. Will I be another girl on the news they find dead? Or maybe he’ll keep me and play with me longer. Which fate is worse, I don’t know.
I’m not even sure I want to find out.