Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
People screamed, and then clapped, and I swear someone tried to reach for me from the crowd. I probably should have put a T-shirt on.
That Boy bounced down from the stage, a cheesy grin on his face as he leaned in and grabbed me by the shoulders. “That was sweet, man. Legend.”
I ruffled up his hair and made my way back the way I came. I needed to get out of here, fast now, before more paparazzi came and wanted to ask me fifty billion questions—all that ended with how she died.
My phone rang as the cold air hit me across the face, and I swiped to answer as my security opened the back door of the Range and I slid in.
“Yeah?”
“We’ve done three.”
“You think doing three games is going to make it appealing to this girl?” I still hadn’t asked who it was, but it was Hades Hollow. There wasn’t much to pick from, and whatever the reason for Sparrow and Malyk doing this, it had meaning. I needed to fly back ASAP and talk to both.
“Yeah, I fucking do—” I mentioned we weren’t all friends? Total matter of circumstance. “I don’t wanna be here playing this bullshit any more than you or Malyk. I have a life too. You both forget that!”
I could see the angry vein pulsing against his neck already. Sparrow liked to pretend he was the calm and collected one, and compared to Malyk and me? Yeah, he was. But compared to the average male? No. He was a psycho. He breathed out a sigh.
“I want this shit done as fast as possible.”
“Sparrow, I hate to break this to you, man.” I leaned up to grab the cigarettes from my back pocket. “But you are a literal billionaire. Owning the most prestigious ski resorts all over the world not enough for you, Big Boy? Hmmm?” I smirked around the trunk of my smoke. “Leave it for The Game, man. It’ll find its way and keep people who need to be happy—happy.” I was treading on thin ice speaking the way I was. Even vaguely.
“Shut the fuck up, Dion. When can you make it back to this town?”
I blew out a cloud of smoke, inhaling deeply before leaning my foot on the driver’s seat in front of me. “I’ll fly back tomorrow. Chill, Big Boy. You’ll be in control again—” The phone cut out and I burst out in a chuckle.
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of an asshole, Dion Quinn?”
I turned toward the familiar voice. Her gaze traced to my lips. Reaching toward her, I cupped her ass and ground her onto my lap. “Yep. Every fucking day.”
Shiloh
Present
“Why do you hate him so much?” Cooper asked, taking half my chicken salad sandwich. We would stay out on the beach for hours, just watching the sun burn to midnight ash. “I mean, I know that he used to bully you when you were little, but you’ve never really gone into the details, and, well—” He shifted his body toward me, tossing sand onto my lap. “I’m almost too scared to ask. You know…because I know him.”
I didn’t want to tell Cooper that his cousin wasn’t the boy he thought he was. That the bullying was only the tip of the iceberg. Or that anytime he brushed past me in the school halls, I was met by the ice in his eyes directed right at me, but when people weren’t looking, he had his tongue down my throat.
A secret that only we would ever share. One that would destroy him, sure…but me? Well…
“I told you it’s fine. I don’t care, and anyway…” I murmured around lettuce. “The bullying wasn’t even that bad.”
Lie. You are such a little liar, Shiloh Saint Claire, and one day, everyone is going to see it.
Voices echo up the stairs, but not enough to work out what they’re saying. Like a fly captured in a jar, I have no options but to breathe what little air they give.
Footsteps thud up the stairs and I turn over to see Sparrow standing in the doorway.
“Get up. You need to do your next task.” He moves to the other side of the room, gathering up a gold watch and clipping it around his wrist.
I don’t bother to ask where they all slept last night—or how I got from the couch to the bedroom.
“So there is still a game?” I yawn, slightly relieved that it wasn’t one big ploy to get me here to kill me.
His eyes travel to mine and my mouth turns dry. “In what part did we say there wasn’t?”
“I don’t know.” I fight with myself to not do something that might get me killed, like, I don’t know, give him what he’s giving me.
“What’s the deal between you and Dion?” he asks, shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks.