Reclaim Read Online Aly Martinez

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
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Smiling and making chitchat, he was in no rush as he packed his bag up. I was wilting into nothingness, but it was just another take-whatever-you-want day for Josh Caskey.

Just before leaving, he stopped in front of me, and used one finger to tilt my head back, forcing my gaze to his. “Let me know if you want to hang out again.” He winked and it was all I could do not to throw up on him.

My whole body shook—trembling all the way down to my soul—as he walked away. The second he disappeared, I took off out of the other side, sprinting as fast as I could in the opposite direction.

I ran and I ran and I ran, my lungs burning and my feet aching. My dad was lounging on the couch when I got home, but I raced past him.

The man who should have been my hero would never help me.

I slammed the door to my room, and when I was positive I was alone, the way God had so clearly intended for me to spend my life, I put my back to it, sinking down so nobody could get inside.

Only then did I cry.

She didn’t show up the next day at the creek.

We’d left things on good terms before her “date.” That sneaky girl had even managed to slip the ten back into my pocket at some point before she took off.

I might not have known this new, older version of Nora Stewart, but I knew when she was lying or faking a smile, and when she’d left me at the creek, the one gracing her beautiful face was one hundred percent genuine.

The good news was I didn’t think she was avoiding me.

The bad news was I still had no idea where she could be.

I wasn’t jealous or anything, but her boyfriend was a total fucking idiot who would never deserve her. And no, I didn’t need to know what he looked like or who he was to know that.

Maybe her stupid boyfriend had convinced her I was lying about the way I’d left last summer. Or maybe he just didn’t want her hanging out with me in general. If she’d even told him about me at all.

He was a douchebag, so I wouldn’t put anything past him.

Yeah, okay, maybe I was a teensy bit jealous.

I told myself not to flip out. After all, hadn’t we just had a long conversation about giving each other the benefit of the doubt? She probably had something come up. I tried to preoccupy my swirling mind with scenarios where she’d caught a cold or had to help her family around the house.

Then I remembered her house.

And her dad.

I’d never prayed so hard in my life for someone to have a stuffy nose and a fever.

I bought worms and turned them in so she didn’t miss out on a day of cash, but when she didn’t show up the next day, either, money was the least of my worries.

We’d made a deal. If either of us disappeared again, we’d know how to find each other. And being in Clovert and not three hours away in Alberton, I could actually do something about it.

So, armed with nothing but a Coke, a Snickers, and an indelible memory of how to get to her house, I set out to find her.

Over a year had passed since I’d been there, but in the daylight, the house looked worse than I recalled. The grass was cut, but weeds had overrun the patches of dirt that I assumed had once been flowerbeds. The tan shutters hung crooked, each one leaning in a different direction, and the post beside the door was completely rotted out. Thankfully, her dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, but even if it had been, that wouldn’t have stopped me from getting to her.

Rocking from one foot to the other, I knocked on the door and then cleared my throat. I was nervous, and she was probably going to yell at me for worrying, but the last two days without her had been miserable. I was more than willing to take my tongue lashing if it got her to come back.

The door cracked open with a deafening creak, a single brown eye appearing in the one-inch gap.

I leaned to the side so she could see me and waved because what the hell else was I going to do with my sweaty palms? “Hi!”

“Camden?” she breathed, pulling the door wide, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment heating her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

I thrust the Coke in front of me, saving the candy bar in my back pocket in case I needed a backup bribe. “I brought you this.”

Stepping outside, she attempted to shut the door behind her, but it jammed and she had to tug it three times to get it to close. I narrowed my eyes at her sweatpants and oversized hoodie. It had to have been a hundred degrees that day.


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