Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Downstairs, the place is clearing out. The music has stopped, and the chandelier glitters with light.
The second I hit the foyer, a broad-shouldered Kappa brother steps in my way. “Where you going? Come downstairs to the basement and let’s get you a beer.”
I sidestep him and go for the door. “No thanks.”
I try to move past him, but his hand latches on my wrist. “What’s your name, gorgeous?”
“Let me go—”
“Cute thing like you, you’re too serious. Come on, the after-party is more fun.”
“No.” I try to tear my hand away, but he’s too strong.
Someone behind me speaks, the tone full of wonder. “Julia.”
I know that voice. Too well.
Parker. I jerk away from the guy and turn to him.
He’s a gorgeous guy, tall and broad-shouldered with a big smile and dark hair that frames his All-American face.
He gives me a wolfish, drunken look. “I’ve been texting you, baby. Where’ve you been?”
I ease closer to the door. “Well—”
“You blocked me, didn’t you?” He crushes a Solo cup in his hand, letting the beer slosh on his hand.
“Parker. You and me. We’ve been over for a long time—”
“You’re wrong about that,” he says as he reaches out and touches my hair. “You don’t get to say when it’s over. You never gave us a shot, Ju-Ju. I would have been really good to you. I mean, come on, you’re a stripper. A guy like me is the chance of a lifetime.”
I nod, agreeing just to agree.
A couple of his brothers gather around us.
“She says she doesn’t drink,” the original one says.
“Oh, yeah?” Parker says. “She’s just an angel, aren’t you?”
He’s referring to one of my routines. I smile nervously. “And you’re a little devil.”
Parker wipes his hand over his mouth, his bleary gaze roaming my body lasciviously. “I miss you, Ju-Ju.”
Someone snickers and Parker throws his cup at him. The guy apologizes profusely, then darts away.
Parker barely notices. He’s got a glint in his eyes. One that makes fear skitter up my spine.
It’s fine. There’s no reason to be afraid. There are plenty of people around. This is just a bunch of drunken guys playing around.
“I have to go. Have a great night,” I say and give him a small wave, trying to pretend like we’re civil.
Parker shakes his head. “I say when you leave.”
Goosebumps raise on my skin. I back away but wind up hitting a wall. And now I’m farther away from the door.
“I think you should come downstairs and give us a show,” one of them says. “I’ve got some dollars on me.”
“Really not interested, okay?” I snap.
Parker gets up in his face and scowls at him. “No one is looking at her. She’s mine.”
Normally, I’d say, “No, I’m not,” but the faster I leave, the better. I can rant at him outside the house, not where the testosterone addled frat boys have me in their hunting grounds.
I’m inching around them when Parker grabs me, tugging me back against his chest. He smells like beer and expensive aftershave, the same scent I remember when I dated him. I used to love it.
Breath whooshes out of me as I struggle. His grip tightens, pushing down on my arms. I squirm and kick back at him, but nothing lands.
“Parker! Let me go. Now!”
One of the guys—maybe the only decent man at Kappa—rears back and watches him with uncertainty. “Uh, I don’t think she likes you. Maybe you should let her go.”
It’s the wrong thing to say. Mostly because Parker can’t stand it when someone tells him what to do.
“You don’t know anything. Get lost,” he barks at them. “All of you. Go downstairs.”
I watch them turn and walk away, the one rather hesitantly, but my gut tells me he won’t be getting help. Parker has them under his thumb, and if they don’t obey, then they’ll be next on his list.
His head bends to my neck, where he inhales deep. “Oh, Ju-Ju. How I’ve waited for you to walk in this house all semester—”
“Let me go—” I scream out, but his hand clamps over my mouth.
Grunts come from me as my blood pumps faster.
“I hate it when you interrupt me.” His breath fans against my ear, and I shudder. Sure, I knew he was a guy on the edge, someone who had mood swings, but I never believed he would resort to physical violence.
My teeth bite down on the meaty part of his palm and he hisses and jerks it away.
I’m free and run for the door, but he catches me by the hem of my hoodie.
I try to talk reason. “Stop this. You’re the king of Kappa. This isn’t you. There are a hundred girls here who you can have—”
My words are cut off as his shoulders hit me in the gut. I think I’m going to fly across the room, but instead the world is hurled upside-down as I’m thrown over his shoulder and marched up the stairs. He weaves precariously on the top steps as I beat against his back and yell for help.