Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
“Yes!” She flipped me off, then drove away, the broken taillight of her Maserati swinging against the backend of the car.
I heard Hendrix cussing behind me and turned to see Wolf dragging him out without his shirt, kicking and screaming.
The distant wail of police sirens sounded, and I snatched my keys from my pocket. “Get in the car, assholes.”
Wolf let Hendrix go, and he dove through one of the broken back windows while Wolf went to the passenger side.
When I tugged on the driver’s side handle, the door wouldn’t budge. Thanks to the hulk-sized dent sealing the damn thing shut. “I may actually kill her,” I mumbled, rounding the car. “Fuck her. Then kill her.”
I shoved Wolf out of the way, then ducked through the passenger-side door, climbed across the console, and sank to the driver’s seat, cranking the engine.
“At least it starts,” Wolf said.
I backed out at full speed and floored it down the street. As soon as I got out of Barrington, I texted Drew.
Me: If your dumbass boyfriend is smart, he’ll play by the rules and not press charges.
Me: Remind him of that.
One girl shouldn’t be able to make me so mad. So what if she wanted to screw Bennett? So what if she hated Dayton and hated me? So fucking what if she drove her hundred-thousand-dollar car into my 1988 Honda?
Medusa: Fuck you. I hope you get arrested and bummed in jail.
My blood pressure had never been so high. Until that very moment, I had no idea that it could actually spot your vision.
I tapped across the screen furiously, watching for the red light to change.
Me: You realize you have anger issues.
Message not delivered. And then I threw my phone into the floorboard.
19
Drew
Early morning sunlight streamed through the window. And I hadn’t really slept.
All night I had warred with myself. As much as I wanted to pretend I didn’t care about Bellamy, I evidently did. Why else would the boy drive me to the brink of insanity?
He used me, made it known, punched my friend in his own house, and then moved onto another girl. Just like that.
And deep down, in a cold little fissure of my black heart, I was hurt, because Bellamy made me feel like nothing when I had stupidly thought that maybe, just maybe, I was something to him. Of course, me being me, that came out as blind rage and psychopathic behavior, which resulted in two demolished cars.
The doorbell rang, then rang again. I threw off the covers, slipping into my robe before heading downstairs.
Through the stained-glass on the door, I could make out the outline of a black T-shirt and dark hair, and I knew it was Bellamy. My chest tightened as I lingered in the foyer, ready to turn away because I had nothing to say to him.
He pounded over the thick wood. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll break into your house again, Drew.”
There was a moment where the image of him in my room that night with his hand to my throat cycled through my head, and my body reacted in ways it shouldn’t. Growing hot and needy for his touch. But I quickly snuffed out those feelings. “Was driving into your car not clear enough? Go away. And I took the spare key, so good luck not setting off the alarm.”
“Unblock my fucking number then.”
“No! Get out of my life, Bellamy.”
He needed to before we killed one another.
A growl came from the other side of the door. “Fine…You wanna be stupid.” He jogged down the steps and disappeared around the bushes.
Unbelievable, I mumbled to myself on my way into the kitchen.
The events from the night before played out in my head as I went about the motions of brewing coffee. Just the thought of him kissing that girl’s forehead brought a hint of rage bubbling to the surface. The coffee pot beeped, and I grabbed a mug just as glass shattered in the foyer, followed by the distinct click of a lock. The shrill wail of the alarm pierced my ears. I closed my eyes on a groan because, of course, Bellamy would actually break-in. Why wouldn’t he? Not like he hadn’t before.
His heavy footsteps came down the hallway. “Where are you?”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I turned from the counter as he appeared in the doorway. “Oh, didn’t bring your baseball bat this time?” Why? Why did I have to have a thing for a psycho?
“Bennett’s friends with Harford?” Stress lined his face, and I didn’t get why.
I mean, that was it? That was his grand revelation? No shit. Jackson and Max played football together, of course, they were friends.
“Get out of my house!” I brushed past him, to the alarm keypad in the hallway. The siren silenced.
“How good of friends are they, Drew?”