Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“I am not fucking trash,” I demand, slamming the second glass down and grabbing the third. It goes sailing through the air toward Charlie’s chest. “And I’m not some fucking whore who’s going to peel off my panties and let you fuck me over.”
“The fuck are you doing?” Colton demands as Charlie is drenched in liquor.
Last but not least.
My glare snaps to their leader as my fingers curl around the fourth glass, more than ready to douse him in bourbon. “And as for you, you fucking pretentious asshole, you can suck my motherfucking, big ass dick.”
The fourth shot of bourbon goes sailing through the air but after his three friends had already been covered in bourbon, he’s quick enough to dodge out of the way and avoid his fancy suit being ruined. Unfortunately for them, Spencer and Charlie are hit with a second dose instead.
“You’re going to pay for that,” Spencer roars, barging past his friends, looking like he’s more than ready to tear me apart, and not in the good way.
I give them a beaming smile. “Here’s the fucking drinks you ordered,” I tell them before slamming the tray of tumblers into Spencer’s unsuspecting chest and spinning on my heels.
Holy fuck. What did I just do?
I race away as the familiar sound of shattering glass echoes through the ballroom behind me. Gasps of outrage are heard—Jude’s being the loudest—and I expect a firm hand to wrap around my elbow and pull me back, but when nothing comes I pick up my pace and run out of here.
Fuck the party, fuck this stupid gown, and fuck them. Who are they to bring me down? Who are they to make me feel worthless? I’m a fucking Goddess. I may not have some fancy title or have a daddy with a swelling bank account, but I know what it’s like to hustle. I know what it feels like to have to work for everything you’ve got, and these guys, they wouldn’t recognize that shit if it bit them on their fucking entitled asses.
I storm out through the back doors of the ballroom and past the stupid gardens that you’d never see in Breakers Flats.
I want to go home. I’m over this bullshit. It’s been a struggle since the second we moved in here. The boys tried to warn me that we didn’t belong but I went ahead anyway, hoping for the best of a shitty situation. I should have just taken Nic up on his offer. He would have looked after us. He would have made sure we were alright. We just had to go and insist that we could take care of ourselves. Well, fuck that. I don’t want to be some stupid idiot self-sufficient bitch anymore. I just want the world to open up at my feet and swallow me whole. I’m over this bullshit.
I cut around the back of the property, getting pissier by the second with how damn far the pool house is from the party. It was probably built for the sole purpose to keep the help as far away from them as possible. They wouldn’t want their guests knowing they have trash living on the property.
Keeping my feet moving, I curse myself for deciding to wear these ridiculous shoes. They're absolutely beautiful but my feet hurt and I can’t run nearly as fast as I want to. I turn the corner to walk around the side of the pool house and come to a startling stop when I find Charles Carrington with his dick in his hand and a blonde with her mouth full of it.
What the fuck?
My eyes bug out of my head and I'm like stone for the shortest second. So much for the theory of Charles being hung up on his ex-wife because it looks a little more like he’s hung up on the chick with the fake titties, botox, and cock-sucking lips.
Charles leans back against the wall of the pool house, his eyes closed and euphoria over his face.
I hold back vomit. The dude is kind of hot for an old guy but still, that’s not something I ever wanted to see. His hand is in the back of her hair, messing it up as he grabs chunks of her platinum extensions and forces her back and forth.
Fucking gross.
The sounds of her gags have me slipping back into the shadows and rushing around the other side of the pool house to the front door. The second I barge my way through it, I slam the door with everything I have, desperately needing some sort of outlet for my anger. Only as the door closes, it flies back open with a very pissed off momma bear scowling at me.
Mom hardly gets a word in before Harrison is there and all hell breaks loose.
He yells at Mom about keeping her daughter in line, Mom yells at me about keeping myself in check, and I yell at Harrison for having the audacity to come into this space that is ours and yell at my mother.