Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
“Leaving out some facts isn’t lying.” Banks sticks up for me, but I shoot him a look across the gym.
I’m not putting him in this mess.
He shakes his head and lets out a frustrated noise. He doesn’t want me to take the fall for all of it, but I’m ready to go all the way down.
“Leaving out some facts isn’t lying,” O’Malley repeats with a dry laugh. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”
With our height difference, I stare down at him. Hating how he keeps bumping up against me. My flexed arms stay woven over my chest, biceps bulged.
“I bet your new friends don’t even really know you.” He glances past my shoulder and zeroes in on Farrow, Oscar, Quinn, and Donnelly. “Did he ever tell you we both went to Saint Joseph’s High School?”
Strain stretches the air. Omega doesn’t give O’Malley the satisfaction of wearing surprise.
“Why would that come up?” I ask him. “You were in a grade below me. I barely knew you.” We had different social circles. I was a football player who worked church functions to get tuition.
He was well-off and voted student body president.
“I don’t know, Thatcher,” O’Malley snaps. “Maybe I thought my lead cared about other things than finding roundabout ways to fuck Jane.”
Hearing her name causes my muscles to tense. Like my body is triggered into defense-mode.
SFO starts launching insults at him, either on my behalf or Jane’s—I can’t tell.
“Let him talk,” I say loudly, silencing Omega, and then I nod O’Malley onward. “You have shit on your chest. Get it off.”
He cranes his neck more to look up at me. “Admit what you did was wrong.”
“I can’t do that.” Flat-out.
I can’t.
Being with Jane is the most right thing I’ve ever done.
“Great.” He’d be in my face if he could reach it. “So you’re saying that if I find myself in a room alone with Luna Hale, and she comes onto me, I’m in the clear to fuck her. Right there. Down and dirty on the floor.”
I almost snap.
I almost yell, she’s nineteen!
But Jane is only twenty-three. SFO rustles behind me, fuming. I take a short glance backwards. Oscar looks murderous.
Farrow straightens up more than usual. He places a hand on Donnelly’s chest. “Ignore the fucker.”
“He’s been asking for a fight.” Donnelly boils. “He’s gonna get hit—”
“Come here then,” O’Malley goads, but his attention veers to Luna’s bodyguard.
“You can’t talk about my client like that,” Quinn growls.
He raises his hands. “I’m just using the precedent Omega has set. If they’re of age and willing, then it’s fair game, right?”
“No,” I say harshly. Deescalate this shit. I try to take a breath. “You were Luna’s bodyguard when she was sixteen,” I remind O’Malley. “Jane was twenty-two, an adult, when I was on her detail. Maximoff was twenty-two when Farrow went to his. I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s fucking different.”
His jaw drops, like he can’t believe I’m rationalizing this. “Who the fuck are you?”
“The same person who spoke to you your first day.”
“No, that guy is dead. You chose pussy over your own integrity,” he sneers. “Hope it tastes worth it.”
I see red.
It’s a switch, but all I want is distance. I want him out of my perimeter. I want him to stop bumping against my fucking chest.
Like a reflex, I uncross my arms and shove him back. He careens into a punching bag. It sways, but he barely loses balance on his feet. He charges at me.
I see the fist coming.
I can’t move. My feet are forced to the fucking mat. Cemented by guilt and blame, and his knuckles smash into my lip.
Bitter iron of blood floods my mouth. People yell around me.
“Heyheyhey!” I hear my brother.
My head spins, the surrounding chaos and my bottled emotion igniting boxes in my head. Boxes that I’ve stapled shut for years. Senses tweaked, my eyes are narrowed, unable to close.
I hear rounds firing in violent succession. My pulse ratchets up. I turn my head, but I have tunnel vision. This—this hasn’t happened before. Not while I’m awake.
Fuck me.
“Back up!”
“Let go, O’Malley!”
I blink into focus and realize O’Malley is fisting my damp black tee. Banks tries to shove between me and him, and I react like I’ve pressed play on a paused movie.
I block my brother and let O’Malley crush another fist into my body. Pounding into my shoulder. Fuck.
Banks tears him off me.
My adrenaline accelerates, chest rising and falling.
Farrow and Oscar drag me from the fight. My brain is screaming to protect my brother, who’s standing on the firing line.
“Banks!” I call out.
Banks.
O’Malley shoves my twin brother, and Banks pushes him angrily back.
“What in the fuck is going on?” That harsh-edged voice comes from the doorway, Sinclair and the other leads entering the gym.
Hands drop to sides. We all go still.
Akara looks from O’Malley to me, his eyes descending to my fat lip. He shakes his head in disbelief, like he, too, doesn’t even know who I am anymore.