Lost Girl Read online Sheridan Anne (Aston Creek High #2)

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: Aston Creek High Series by Sheridan Anne
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73963 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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My strength is no match for his. I’m weak and pathetic. He proved that to me the night he forced his way inside my room and he proved it to me again in the way he so easily tugged me toward his car. Had Slade not been there, I’d be long gone by now.

Slade walks with me in his arms until he’s showing up at my door. He walks in, makes his way down the hall and puts me straight into my bed, making sure to leave some tissues, pain killers and a glass of water on my bedside table.

He looks down at me and I refuse to meet his eyes, knowing that once I do, I’m going to break all over again. Without another word, he silently walks from my room and closes my bedroom door, the sound all too final.

Chapter 15

I wake and stare up at the ceiling while shaking my hand. I don’t think I’ve ever clutched my knife so hard in my life. My hand is red-raw and my brain hurts. It was a night spent filled with tears, torment, and fear.

I tossed and turned until five in the morning, constantly looking at the window. I think I’m going to have to ask Shay and Ben if I can board it up or put bars across it. Hell, maybe I’ll just turn this place into a prison cell, no one in and no one out.

Slade has been able to sneak in here twice and pull me out of bed with me none the wiser until I’m slammed up against the wall. I can’t trust myself anymore and I don’t know if that scares me more than the promise of Lucien coming back.

I throw my blanket off and sit up in bed. I instantly see my reflection in my full-length mirror that sits across my room and even from here I can see the puffiness beneath my eyes. The last time I remember crying like that was when I was four years old and I was clutching my baby brother to my chest in a dark basement. I was cold and struggling with the images of my mother’s blood splattering over our walls and windows. I’ve never felt so alone than what I did in that basement with Blake. We were only babies, yet last night, I felt that same fear.

It’s the unknown that comes to torment me in the night, it’s the shadows that pass by my bedroom window, it’s the sound of night-time critters dashing across the roof and playing in the moonlight. Every last sound had me gasping and throwing myself out of bed, ready for an attack, and realizing that it’s my overactive mind, I was left feeling pathetic…weak.

I’m miles away from my attacker and he has me reduced to this. I wonder if this is the way Daniella felt all those years? She said she was able to move past it when she found happiness in her husband, but what if happiness isn’t in my cards? I’m used goods. What man is ever going to want me? One little thing has Slade running for the hills. What chances do I have of finding another who could possibly compare to the way he set my body on fire? The way he made my heart race with a single touch? The way he made all the bad fade into the distance? The way he made me happy for the first time in thirteen years…

The way he saved me.

Simply put, Slade Cruz is irreplaceable.

Jokes on me, right? Slade Cruz is too cruel to fall in love. Hell, what does it matter? I’m too broken to fall in love anyway. I’m not worthy, not good, not…clean.

I get my feet to the floor and reluctantly pull myself out of bed. It’s just after seven in the morning and despite my body begging me to get a few more hours sleep, I know I won’t be able to shut off. Maybe tonight I’ll be able to find enough peace to get a few hours of uninterrupted sleep, but for now, there’s no chance in hell.

I put myself through a quick shower, hating the feel of the alcohol that sits at the bottom of my stomach. Drinking was a bad fucking idea. It was nice getting to know Nessa a bit more and having a bit of fun while doing it, but I’ve never regretted a decision so much in my life.

After turning the water cold and running it over my sore, puffy eyes, I get out to face my day.

Usually, I’d be thrilled that it’s a Sunday. I’d be able to chill out while creating some art, catch up on any missed school work, and binge on Netflix, but not today. Today is going to be filled with nothing but despair. I’m going to be looking around every corner, panicking at every second, and hating myself for all of my shitty decisions since being here in Aston Creek.


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