Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
So what’s he doing?
Just watching my girl for fun?
I don’t buy that.
“Supernova,” I say to him, loud and firm.
The guy doesn’t even flinch.
Someone is fucking with our CUP Stars. To be able to do this, they’d have to have extensive knowledge of psychology, CIA mind control tactics, and the human brain on a physiological level. There’s not a lot of people out there who could pull something like this off. Either the threat comes from someone else well-versed on the subject or it comes from within. Like my father playing games in the background to fuck with me.
I’m making my way back over to Romy when my phone buzzes in my slacks’ pocket. I pull out my phone, heart in my throat, wondering if it’s Calista again. While it’s an unknown number, it’s not her.
Unknown Number: She’s beautiful.
A chill races through me. I glower at the Star soldier to see if he’s the person behind the text.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown Number: S. Miss me?
Me: What do you want?
Unknown Number: To warn you.
Me: This is a threat?
Unknown Number: No. It’s a warning. Look around, Caius. The wolves are out. Keep your belle of the ball on a leash.
I tear my stare from my phone to look at each and every face I can. These people are all in party mode, laughing and chatting while dressed to the nines. No one, aside from the Star soldier, sticks out.
Me: Where?
Unknown Number: Everywhere. Most don’t stand out so boldly. There are plenty in sheep’s clothing.
Me: Who are you really?
Unknown Number: Your friend.
Me: Show your face. I know you’re here.
Unknown Number: Master of the Obvious. How else would I have an eye on your girl? Who knows, maybe I’m next in line to say hello?
Me: You’re that bold? I’ve got an eye on her. You’ll out yourself. No more hiding behind an untraceable number.
Unknown Number: Honestly, with your prowess in the tech field, I’m shocked you haven’t tracked me down already. I must be getting better at playing the game.
I grit my teeth, aching to get my hands on S’s throat.
Unknown Number: You’re supposed to be Cold Caius Crowne. Where’d that man go? All I see right now is a man quickly losing his cool.
He’s right.
Romy has this effect on me.
Me: Duly noted. What’s your real name?
Unknown Number: In due time you’ll know.
Me: The point of these texts?
Unknown Number: I already told you. To warn you. The bad guys are all around you, lurking in plain sight. Your pretty blonde isn’t safe.
Me: No one will touch a hair on her head. I’ll make sure of it.
Unknown Number: I bet you’ll sure try. But don’t worry, Caius. I have your back. It’s in my interest to keep her safe as well.
My hackles rise at that text.
Me: Why?
I want to throw my phone when it comes back “undeliverable.”
Who is this S and why has he decided to infect my life, filling my head with questions and confusion?
Someone nudges me and I nearly drop my phone.
“Everything okay, Son?” Dad asks, frowning at me. “You don’t look too happy.”
I shove my phone back into my pocket and shrug. “Just dealing with something annoying.”
“Care to share?”
Turning, I nod toward the CUP Star. “Is that you?”
“Is what me?”
“Him. Just like the one at the diner.”
Dad narrows his eyes, studying him. “Perhaps he’s just a hot-blooded male who finds your girlfriend an irresistible piece of ass.” He smirks. “You know, like the rest of the guys practically salivating over her.”
We both know that’s not fucking it.
Not only do I have to worry about this rogue CUP Star, but S is around here somewhere as well. He’s toying with me, showing me he’s steps ahead of me at all times. To what end, though? What does he truly want? Not friendship, that’s for damn sure.
A man with jet-black hair and a chiseled jaw sidles up next to Romy. He says something that makes her blush. Then he points toward the bathroom. She shakes her head, laughs, and playfully pushes him away.
Is that S?
He slinks back into the crowd. I abandon Dad’s side to follow after him. Whoever the hell he is, he needs to know she’s taken, though she did a good job of sending him on his way.
The fucker is tall and has a long stride. I practically have to run to keep up with him. When he reaches a bar area, I stop him with a hand clamped on his shoulder. He startles at my iron grip and whirls around to face me.
“If you want my autograph, man, just ask. No need to accost me.” He huffs with impatience. “What do you want me to sign?”
“Who the fuck are you?” I growl.
The expression of utter horror is almost comical. I suppose he’s used to people falling at his feet.
“James Clayton.” He crosses his arms over his chest and levels me with a glare. “Ring any bells.”