Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Lost.
I swipe at the smudged makeup beneath my eyes. Above all, she’s a woman on the edge of falling apart.
Your sister.
He fucked your sister.
The more I replay it in my head, the further the fractures split in my chest. I thought I heard Olive laugh at her one night, but figured I was imagining it, or that Millie was in the clubhouse with everyone when Hella called. What if she's been living with him?
I press my palms against the sink and try to breathe.
In. Out. In. Out.
Someone pounds on the door.
“Occupied!” My voice cracks.
“It's Phoebe. Let me in.”
“I'm fine.” I sniff, rolling toilet tissue in my hand and wiping my nose.
“You're not fine.” She taps at it again. “Open the door.”
She’s not going to give up, so I do my best to fix my makeup. “Give me a minute.”
I splash cold water on my face and straighten my top.
You can do this.
You can survive this.
You've survived worse.
You knew he was going to disappoint you.
When I finally swing the door open, Phoebe's waiting. She takes one look at my face and pulls me into a hug.
“What happened?” She growls into my ear.
“Hella and Millie,” I murmur, afraid someone will hear the confessions of a stupid heart.
“What about them?” she asks, hands on my arms as she studies my face.
I can't say it. Can't make it real. “He said she's been taking care of him.”
Phoebe doesn’t react at first, then the moment it clicks into place, her eyes widen. “No.”
I glare. “Yes.”
“That doesn't mean—”
“It means exactly what it sounds like.” I pull away. “I need air.”
“Wait—”
But I'm already moving. Back through the crowd. Past the bar. Past the pool tables. Past the couch where Beast and Yana are curled together.
I spot Hella near the wall again. And beside him — Millie.
They're talking. That's all. Talking. But the way she's looking at him. The way she's smiling at him.
My heart shatters.
While I was in the bathroom snot crying about my little sister fucking my—whatever he is--, they were out here laughing. Amongst probably other things.
I can't do this.
Each step toward the exit the music fades further until I push through the doors, stumbling into cold air.
“Melissa!” Millie calls out. I’m gonna hit her. For the first time in my fucking life, I’m going to land one on her because despite giving everything I fucking could all her life, she still had to take the one thing that was mine.
Spinning around to cuss her out, my words are cut off when something rough is shoved over my head.
I try to scream, but a hand clamps over my mouth through the fabric. Strong arms wrap around my body, lifting me off the ground.
No. No. No.
I kick. Hard. My heel connects with something solid. Someone grunts.
“Bitch!”
Another pair of hands grab my legs. I'm being carried. Fast. Toward — A sliding door, and then airborne, before my back lands on the floor with a loud crack. Stars dance behind my eyes, everything tilting and words blurring.
“Hold her down!”
I fight. Kicking. Scratching. Screaming into the fabric covering my face.
Someone pins my arms. Someone else grabs my legs.
“She's a fighter—”
My foot connects with a face, and someone laughs.
“Nice try.”
Another voice, before another door slams closed. “Knock her out already!”
Pain explodes at the base of my skull.
Then nothing.
Thirty-Six
Hella
Millie leans against the wall beside me, sipping Coke through a straw. She still can’t stomach anything stronger without gagging. Three weeks of trying to corrupt a nun, and the best I've managed is getting her to say “shit” without apologizing.
“You're a real asshole, you know that?” Her voice is low, but there’s no real threat in it.
“Yeah, I'm aware.”
“Melissa looked like you ripped her heart out and stomped on it.”
“Good.” My eye twitches. “That's what I was going for.”
“Was it?” Millie turns to face me fully. “Because from where I'm standing, you looked about two seconds from chasing after her.”
I take a long pull from my beer. “You see me chasing?”
“No, but right now?” Her brow curves. “You’re squeezing that bottle like it personally offended you.”
“Drop it, Millie.”
“Can't.” She shifts her weight. “Not when you're using me like this. Making her think we're—” She gestures between us. “Whatever she thinks we are.”
“I told you what this was from the start.” I light a cigarette, needing something to do with my hands before I put my fist through the wall. “I help you stay safe, help you find your little stalker, and you keep me from doing something fucking stupid, like begging on my knees for a woman who wants nothing to do with this life.”
“She wants you.”
I finish my beer and hiss, placing my bottle onto the bar. “She wants a version of me that doesn't exist.” Smoke curls from my lips. “The one who doesn't kill people. Who doesn’t live outlaw.”
Millie's quiet for a moment. “That’s not it, Hella. She doesn’t care about any of that. This has to do with her being afraid that you’ll hurt her. Why are you pushing her away?”