Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Every muscle in my body tightens…I’m strung so tight that once I snap, I worry there may not be any coming back from the things I’ll do.
Such a beautiful fucking liar. She must think I’m stupid, an idiot without a fucking brain. I bet it’s all just a game to her. Letting me fuck her, getting under my skin. Maybe she thinks she can use her pussy to control me. Teeth grinding together, my jaw aching underneath the pressure. I stop myself from punching the dashboard.
I’ve got to unleash the pain… find an outlet, and soon before I explode.
“You know I loved your mother. We might be estranged now, but I did love her when we were married, she gave me you, after all. I respected her too much to ever cheat on her. I’m sorry son, I really am. If I knew she was going to do this kind of thing, I wouldn’t have allowed her to come.”
“It’s fine,” I grit out, my nostrils flaring.
“It’s not. I feel terrible.” He scrubs a hand down his face and all over again, I feel as if I’ve let my father down by falling into a hidden trap.
“It’s really okay, Dad. You did nothing wrong. Can we just go home? I have some plans with Clark and I don’t want to be late.” How I get all the words to come out without a growl, I don’t know. Maybe magic.
“I’ll talk to Laura. I’ll fix this,” my father murmurs, shifting the car into drive. The drive home is short, and he doesn’t say but a handful of words, thankfully. Fire rippling through my veins, I’m ready to burn everything the fuck down.
When we pull into the driveway, I bail from the car before it’s even parked. I look up at the house with murderous rage and take a step forward.
No, my subconscious says. If I walk into that house right now, as angry as I am, I’ll do something I know I’ll regret and when I hurt that lying bitch, the last thing I want to do is regret it. So instead I fish my keys out of my pocket and start for my car.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” my father asks as I stomp across the pavement, each step vibrating through my bones.
“I’m fucking fine. I’m going to Clark’s, so don’t wait up for me. I’ll be home when I get home,” I mutter and slide into the driver seat. I start the car and pull out of the driveway as slowly as I can. Once on the street, I floor it, the roar of the engine combined with my rage in my veins giving me an unnatural high.
Driving around aimlessly, I try to decide what the fuck I’m going to do. My need to make her hurt outweighs all my other thoughts.
Liar. Fucking liar. The mere thought of her makes me want to punch a fucking wall. I tighten my hold on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white. How can I hurt her the same way she’s hurt me. She used her body, her fucking tears, and my emotions to twist and turn the knife. As if her betrayal from before wasn’t enough, she then drove the knife deeper by fucking lying some more. I suppose I could use her back. She wanted my dick, came on it, and sighed my name like a fucking prayer. I’ll just use her body against her, her fucking want for me. She might be a fucking liar but that tight little pussy squeezing around my cock is something you can’t fake.
Soft skin. Green eyes. Pink parted lips. It’s all I can see when I think about her.
“Fuck her,” I yell into the air beating my fist against the steering wheel.
By the grace of God, I end up at Clark’s house. The place looks like a fucking mansion, but it’s very similar to my house. Five bedrooms, twenty million bathrooms, and a pool that lets everyone know we have more money than we know what to do with.
Parking in the driveway, I kill the engine and escape the small space of my vehicle. I need a punching bag, a bottle of whiskey, and some pussy. I don’t knock when I enter the house and why should I, it’s not like he knocks when he comes to mine.
As soon as I enter the over the top foyer, I hear voices. They boom off the walls and into the empty house. They’re coming in the direction of Steve, Clark’s father’s, office. Not wanting to impose, I hang out around the staircase, my hands shoved into my pockets, waiting for Clark to make his appearance.
“I don’t understand why this girl has to stay with us? If she got a scholarship, why can’t she stay in the dorms? I’m an adult, not a babysitter, surely she can care for herself.”