Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
I can’t stand it.
It drives me up a fucking wall and causes my entire system to go haywire. My synapses snap, crackle, and pop, and I usually lash out before I know what I’m doing.
Sucking in a sharp breath, I jerk forward, ripping my body out of the hands, and spin on my heel.
The pistol is up in an instant, pressing into the forehead of whoever dared to touch me.
My instincts screaming at me to eliminate the threat to my person.
Hurt them before they hurt you.
Oscar stares back at me calmly as my finger itches to squeeze the trigger.
“What the fuck?!” I yell a split-second later, my brain finally processing everything.
Jerking the gun to the side, I fire the shot into the distance.
Shit. I hope that doesn’t hit someone innocent.
James and Sophia live in that direction…
“Fuck!” I yell again, and shake my head hard, trying to clear it.
Oscar doesn’t move, standing his ground.
Still up in my business, he has the nerve to grin at me like he’s proud of me. “You passed.”
Rage suddenly surging through my veins, I jerk the gun back up and press it hard into his forehead. So hard, he’s forced to take a step back.
Breathing hard, my heart trying to thump its way out of my chest, I ask, “What the fuck do you mean I passed?”
The urge to pull on the trigger until he shatters into tiny little pieces pounds behind my temples, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have to fight it.
Somewhere deep inside, I know Oscar isn’t the enemy. He doesn’t intend to hurt me.
When I’m not upset, I may even be a little fond of him.
But he touched me. Touched me without warning me. Touched me without my permission…
His stupid grin stretching even wider and his eyes lighting up, Oscar repeats, “You passed, girly. I knew you had it in you. Now get your ass home.”
Oscar is so damn calm, so damn proud and happy, it throws me off.
I glare into his dull blue eyes, literally on the verge of murdering him, and he just continues to beam at me without an ounce of fear.
Without an ounce of doubt or distrust.
I almost pull the trigger to teach him a lesson.
But dead men don’t learn lessons.
Oscar told me that himself. One of his many nuggets of unsolicited wisdom.
Shaking my head again, I force myself to lower my gun.
A cold numbness washes over me as my body finally recognizes that the danger has passed. Temporarily snuffing out the intense fear and rage.
But it will be back.
It always comes back.
“That’s it?” I ask, my mind trying to wrap around what just went down.
Everything inside me is messed up now. I’ve lost my… calm. A calm it’s taken months and months to achieve.
And I know from previous experiences it’s going to be a long fucking night of no sleep.
Oscar huffs before he growls out in his raspy voice, “What? You expectin’ a participation trophy or some shit?”
Reaching into the pocket of his faded red t-shirt, a t-shirt that’s probably as old as I am, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes. The old fucker has the nerve to smirk at me as he taps a cigarette out of the pack.
I watch him light up and suck in a cloud of cancer, my thoughts whirling in every direction.
“No,” I say as he exhales, politely blowing the cloud of smoke off to the side. “I don’t expect a stupid trophy.”
“Good.” Oscar takes another hard puff off his cigarette, the cherry glowing bright in the fading sunlight. “’Cause you ain’t gettin’ one. Now get your ass on out of here. I’ve got shit to do before it gets dark.”
He takes a step around me and I almost grab him to stop him.
I’m that fucked up.
Catching myself, I snap instead, “I almost killed you! What the hell, Oscar? It was a fucking test?”
Oscar stops but he doesn’t turn around. He simply pauses for a long moment then nods his head. “Yep, and you didn’t.”
Speechless and still confused as hell, I watch him walk away, giving me his back.
He chuckles. “Knew you liked me.”
Again, I’m tempted to fucking shoot him.
What the fuck? Seriously, what the ever-living fuck?
What kind of messed up game is this?
Growling in frustration when he disappears behind a few trees, I spin around and march angrily up the trail, heading for my car. When I crest the small hill of grass that leads to the driveway, I spot something dark off in the distance.
Squinting my eyes, I stare into the horizon for a few seconds before I finally recognize what I’m looking at.
I can’t see the cocky grin on his face from here but I know it’s there as James lifts his arm and waves at me. Wanting me to see him.
Him and what looks suspiciously like a rifle in his other hand.