Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I’ve been standing here for several minutes, giving myself time, when the sound of crinkling leaves alerts me that I’m not alone.
“Are you lost, kid?”
I twist at the throaty voice. When my eyes land on its owner, I freeze. The boy standing in front of me is tall. Way taller than me. I inspect the crest on the left side of the blazer he’s wearing.
I have no idea what it’s for. Maybe a school logo. Maybe not. It looks like the kind of logo you’d see on a fancy school uniform, but that makes no sense since he’s here. Unless he’s visiting someone.
I tilt my head as I take in the design, determined to figure this out. It looks a bit like a triangle, but not one I recognize. It’s silver, standing out starkly against the solid black of the rest of the jacket.
Realizing I’m not going to figure this out, I crane my neck, looking up into his face.
His features are hard to make out because the trees are blocking what little sun shines through the clouds overhead. He’s cloaked in shadows, and it’s a bit disconcerting.
I take a step back, and he takes a step forward into a space where more light filters through the trees. My breath hitches, and my mouth drops open.
He looks like a fallen angel. Dark and ominous. With chocolate-brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Eyes I can’t turn away from. They have me captive. His irises remind me of the water in the Pacific Ocean I once saw on a TV show. The edges, ringed in black like a violent storm. Looking at them feels like looking into a dark sky and waiting for lightning to flash.
“Hey, kid,” he says. “You alright?”
I shake my head and furrow my brows. Is he talking to me?
“Who are you calling a kid?” I straighten my shoulders, trying to appear taller as I glower up at him. I’m practically a teen, or at least I will be in six months. He looks like he’s one, too, so who is he to talk? It’s not like he’s an adult. Four, maybe five years older. Max.
He smirks down at me, and my stomach tumbles. I hate that feeling. The only time I’ve ever experienced that sensation was swinging on the swings at the park close to our last place. I’d lean back as I swung toward the sky, trying to contain the giggle that threatened to burst from me. I felt alive. Free.
This stranger doesn’t get to make me feel that way.
“Pippa,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest.
His eyes narrow as he looks down at me. “What?”
“It’s Pippa.” I move my hands to my hips. “Not kid. And I’m almost thirteen if you must know,” I fire back.
I start to turn and walk away when the guy speaks again.
“You looked like you were about to lose it. You good?”
I blink several times, not sure why I’m feeling warm all over and annoyed at the same time. “I’m fine,” I scoff, turning my back on him.
“Whatever you say, Pip.”
Looking over my shoulder, I level him with a glare. “As I said before, it’s Pippa. My name is Pippa. But since you clearly…”
“I like Pip. It suits you.” He shrugs. “Pippa sounds pretentious.”
I roll my eyes. “Big word.”
“Is it?” He grins. “What can I say? I guess my education is working.”
My face screws up. “Whatever.”
I turn on my heels, ready to run back to my trailer, and bump into a hard wall.
Not a hard wall. Another boy.
This one gives off a bad vibe that has me on edge immediately. I’m met with tapered eyes and a scowl. Trouble with a capital “T” if I’ve ever seen it.
“Watch it, you little shit.” His arms dart out, and before I know what’s happening, I’m pushed.
Things escalate quickly after that.
I fall backward, my eyes close, and I brace for impact. It doesn’t happen. Instead, large arms wrap around me, holding me in place.
“What the fuck, Ace?” the lesser of the two evils grits through his teeth, not looking down at me as he barks at the new guy.
He lifts me up, holding me in place until I’m steady on my feet. When he’s sure I’m okay, he moves away from me and steps into the asshole who tried to push me down.
“What the hell do you care, Slate? She was in my way. I was simply removing her from my path.”
Slate.
The name suits him.
Slate is eye to eye with the jerk, who doesn’t move an inch. “You don’t touch her. You don’t fucking look at her.” He straightens his back, effectively making himself taller than the douche. “Pip is off limits.”
I don’t have to see his eyes to know they’ve darkened to deep pools. A hurricane building as he levels the shorter guy with a look that promises violence.