Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Though so had the media teacher.
Fuck it. I push back from the desk, coming to my feet. I still can’t help the fear that is simmering inside of me that something will happen to her.
"You're leaving?" Mac sits up straighter.
"Yeah." I grab my keys.
"I got donuts." Mac points over her shoulder toward the kitchen area behind her. "We could share one."
"You lost, Mac," I tell her, already heading toward my SUV.
"Damn it! I only needed five more minutes to win the bet!" she calls after me.
I ignore her and everything else. My solo focus is on Bonte. As it should be.
Chapter Twenty
BONTE
Why had I pushed to come back to school? I guess I forgot how painstakingly boring it could be. I’m only paying half attention to my civics teacher. I don’t think Jax is paying attention at all. His class right now is the art of watching Kinsley. He’s staring at her like she’s teaching the class herself. When really, she is taking notes on her laptop. It’s adorable and annoying. Most of all, it makes me miss Eros.
My stomach cramps at the thought. I’m becoming rather dependent on him. I haven’t been paying attention to how much he’s pulled me in under him.
When people get too close, it’s a bitch when you lose them. That shit cuts deeper than anything else. I’ve been trying to make sure I never experience that pain again. That ship has sailed, and I can’t do the stupid thing of pushing him away. No, I’m already in too deep.
The classroom door opens, stealing everyone's attention. Grant comes walking into class, his lip busted and his cheek red. That's going to turn into a bruise.
“Did you need to go to the nurse’s office, Grant?” our teacher asks.
“No, it’s from basketball practice.” Going off his rumpled clothes, I’m not sure I believe him. I also don’t think we have basketball right now. He drops down into one of the chairs in the front. Not his normal seat.
I glance over to Kinsley, who is of course paying attention. She’s no longer typing on her computer but has moved to one of her many notebooks. I bet her notes have switched from civics now to every detail about Grant at the moment. The girl is always itching to find a new story.
The teacher goes back to his lesson. I go back to being bored. A message pops up on my computer that is still linked to my old phone. Shit, Eros got me a new one because mine was gone. Lost long before I was put down into the hole.
My stomach drops and my heart flutters with excitement when I see that the message is from an unknown number, but the word Sweetheart captures my full attention. Sweetheart. That’s what my father always called me.
He always said I was the sweetest girl he knew, and I held his heart. It brings back a flood of memories, and not the dark ones. No, the ones before everything came crashing down around us, and I was ripped from my life and turned into bait.
I notice a slight shake of my hand when I go to click it but pause before I do, tilting my laptop more at an angle so that no one else can see it. Mainly Jax and Kinsley. I don't have any guilt over it either. The Marinos have all kinds of secrets they keep for their family; I can do the same.
When I click the message, that's all that's there. I stare at the screen, wondering if he's going to say more or he's waiting for me to respond. I wish I could predict what he wants me to do, but I really don’t know the other side of my father. It’s been so long since I even had a conversation with him. But I do know he loves me in his own way.
I go back and forth over what to say.
“Blair.” Kinsley elbows me, and I slowly shut my laptop. “Blair.” Oh shit, I realize it’s me the teacher is calling on.
“That’s me.” I kind of forgot my name for a minute. I’d gotten used to being around the Marinos, and they are all calling me Bonte.
“They need to see you in the office.” I glance over to Jax, who gives a shrug, and I take that as it’s okay to go.
“Okay.” I go ahead and shove everything into my bag in case I don’t make it back before my next class.
Why am I getting called to the office? It's not completely crazy that I might be in trouble, but I don't think I've fucked with anyone. It hits me; it's likely due to me missing school and not having a parent call in.
I know my handler Kirkland wouldn’t go this route to get in touch with me. I don't have a clue where he is, and I don't think he's trying to find me either. But then again, I was told many times that my case was different from others.