Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
He leans forward, a dark look entering his eyes, jaw clenched tightly. “Write your little messages online. Act tough if you want. But if you ever insult her in person or talk badly about her to me in person, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. That piece-of-shit trucker bastard got away with it because he’s old and hid behind his phone, and Dakota didn’t need to see me beat up an elder. But now? The gloves are off.”
Coming from any other CEO, it might sound ridiculous. But Jackson looks borderline feral. Ferocious and protective. A small part of me thinks that this isn’t his right. He should’ve asked me first.
But another, much bigger part thinks…
Let him control this. Not me, not everything. But this is his right. If he wants to fight for us, I’m going to let him.
The video ends. I glance at the time. Almost time for another stream.
To say our clips have gone viral would be an understatement. Our joint statements have completely rebranded people’s perceptions of us. The public loves how raw and honest Jack was, and they respect the statement I made on my stream. Unfortunately, Jackson’s right. There will always be douchebags. But together, we’re making enough noise for them to sound like mice.
My phone vibrates. It’s Jack.
Jack: We’re on the final stretch, baby. We should be done by midnight.
A smile lights me up when I read his message. We’ve wanted to see each other so badly the past two days, but Jackson has been deep in the programming dungeons with his team.
Dakota: Swing by when you’re done. I’ll wait up.
Jack: All the trolls in the world couldn’t keep me away.
I look at my screen. My moderators are discussing tactics in our private chat. We’re already auto-banning people who use ugly keywords, which we never had to do before. But already, the amount of abuse is going down. In typical bully fashion, they only want to attack someone when they know it hurts.
It does hurt… but I’ll be damned if they ever get to see that. Even for a second.
Fifty thousand people are waiting for my stream to go live. This is the byproduct I never could’ve anticipated. Haters were drawn to me because of this, sure, but a whole new wave of supporters have joined too. Time will tell if they become steady, loyal fans. But for now, I’m grateful for the support.
I start the stream with a big smile on my face. “Hey, folks, who’s ready to slay some demons?”
A donation along with a message pops up on the screen, from TheRealCreator, for a single dollar.
TheRealCreator: I am, beautiful.
The chat goes wild, many of them commenting they’ve never seen me smile like this before. It’s somehow sweeter for only being a dollar. Showing the world it’s the message that matters, not the money.
“You bad boy,” I say, a teasing note in my voice. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
After my stream, Jack texts me to say he’s going to be working until 2 AM and that I shouldn’t wait up. But it’s been too long. We’re aching for each other. He’s a hardworking man, dedicated to his company. That’s one of the reasons this has gone so well for him—for us—too. Other CEOs would have vultures waiting stage left, desperate to pick him apart the moment he falters. Jack has supporters.
It’s just gone two when I walk into the Halcyon lobby. The security guard looks up, eyes refocusing as he clearly recognizes me. “I’m sorry, Miss Vale, but I can’t let you in without a pass.”
“Can I wait in the lobby? And, if possible, could you let Jackson know I’m here? Tell him there’s no rush. I’ve got my Switch.” I tap my handbag.
“Yes, ma’am,” the man says respectfully.
I sit on one of the cream couches, taking out my Nintendo Switch. I don’t even have time to boot up a game when the security guard calls over, “You can go up, ma’am. Top floor.”
I ride the elevator with a pit in my stomach. So much has happened since we last saw each other, so much drama and growth. All in the space of three rollercoaster days.
Jack is waiting for me outside the elevator. He looks tired, with bags under his eyes and his stubble growing into a proper beard. He’s wearing a crinkled shirt, sleeves rolled up.
“You’re working too hard,” I tell him.
He moves closer, pulling me into his arms. “We’re almost there, baby,” he says, leaning down for a kiss.
It’s explosive, shattering any doubts, any confusion. It’s the sort of kiss a girl could wait a lifetime for. “We’re already there, baby,” I murmur, then kiss him again.
EPILOGUE
JACKSON
One Month Later
We walk hand in hand through the cave, the walls glistening with green jewels, custom torches flickering around the clamshell bed—a green tint to the flames. I sink my hand greedily into her side, pulling her closer against me.