Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
With that, I let out a strained sigh and make myself busy cleaning the house. Slade’s words weren’t exactly comforting, but they weren’t supposed to be. They were honest and that’s all I can ask for in a situation like this.
By the time 3 am rolls around, the house is as clean as it’s ever going to be and I lie next to Slade in my bed. Every window is locked, every door closed and bolted, even the back door is booby-trapped. There’s no way he’ll get in here without us knowing.
Slade is exhausted and as he pulls me in tight and presses a kiss to my temple, he instantly falls asleep murmuring a whispered ‘love you.’ It’s been a big day for him. After all, it’s hard to believe that it was only a few hours ago that he was dominating the basketball court and I was reminding Rachel Carter who the real boss bitch of Aston Creek High is. We partied, Nessa and Damian finally put their stubbornness aside, and I even got to witness Maze’s dirty side. Hell, I even got a taste of Kathleen's crazy which is always fun.
It’s hard to believe that such an incredible day could turn out like this.
This isn’t how it was supposed to go. I came to Aston Creek for a new start and instead, I’m dragging them all down. They’re supposed to be thinking about the rest of their lives. Slade should be focusing on college and getting on to an incredible team while Damian should be figuring out what he wants to do with the rest of his life.
None of them should be worrying about if they’re even going to wake up in the morning. This shit isn’t fair.
I lie awake in Slade’s arms, my hand curled around the knife just as I knew it would be. I’ve stared at the ceiling fan since the second Slade fell asleep and every second that passes is like torture. My only saving grace is that I have Slade’s arms wrapped around me. If I was lying here alone, I’d have probably lost my mind by now.
I look over at Slade and with the knife in my hand, I slip out from under his arm, being careful not to wake him. I sneak out of my room and head into the kitchen needing to go searching through Shay’s big box of happy pills for something that will help me sleep.
I grab a glass of water and drop a few ice cubes into it. It’s not a hot night but with everything going on, I’ve been a sweaty mess.
I find myself searching around, looking into the dark shadows in the corners of the kitchen and living room. There’s nothing there. I freaking booby-trapped the house. I’d know if he was here. He’s probably in hiding somewhere, waiting for me to come out.
The house is eery when I’m out here alone. I don’t like it one bit and that thought has me heading back to my room. I’d rather lay awake in Slade’s arms than be out here panicking over something out of my control.
I push through my bedroom door and a small click has my head whipping up.
I come to a screeching halt, the glass of water dropping from my hand and spilling all over the carpet of my room, somehow managing to not wake Slade.
Lucien stands beside my bed, grinning wide as he holds a gun to Slade’s beautiful sleeping face, looking exactly like the nightmare I’ve always known him to be.
My heart races and I suck in a breath and go to scream when Lucien raises his finger to his mouth warning me to keep quiet.
Tears spring from my eyes as I stare at Slade so peaceful in his sleep. One tiny little noise from me and he’s gone.
I distantly realize that my closet doors are wide open and with the bedroom window still closed and locked, that could only mean that he’s been in my room the whole fucking night.
Chills run through my veins.
What do I do? What the fuck am I supposed to do?
My gaze falls back to Slade but I hardly see him through the tears flooding my eyes. My hand curls tighter around the hilt of the knife but I’m backed into a corner. I won’t risk Slade’s life. I can’t.
I can guarantee that one of Lucien’s bullets will hit Slade much faster than my knife will hit him.
“Drop it or the boy gets a bullet through his brain,” Lucien murmurs so low that I hardly hear him.
I quietly sob, my breath coming in rapid, hard pulls, quickly realizing that I’m left with no option but to give him what he wants. My hand hesitates but I force myself to release the knife and I watch as it clambers down to the carpet, bouncing twice before coming to a stop.