Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
When people glance at me, I ignore them. I'm sure they're wondering why someone like me is standing outside of their expensive, fancy school, which costs more than some colleges.
“Hey,” a blonde calls to me. “Who are you here for?” She's wearing the same uniform as Riley, so I'm assuming they're about the same age. However, with all the makeup she's wearing, I would have guessed her to be in her twenties. She doesn't have those full cheeks like my Riley does. Or the freckles that are sprinkled across her nose.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her to fuck off and mind her own business, but what if she’s friends with Riley? I don’t want to make things hard for her at school.
“Riley.” I look over the blonde’s head, and now a few other girls have joined in search of Riley.
“The girl with the frizzy red hair? That Riley?” The blonde’s tone of disbelief has me focusing back on her. What is this bitch's problem?
“Yeah,” I say, pushing off the car. “That a fucking problem?” The girl's eyes widen for a split second, but she covers her surprise with a laugh.
“No.” She licks her lips. “I just didn’t know she had a brother.”
“She doesn’t,” I clip, knowing what this cunt is getting at. This high school clique shit is real, I guess. The catty blonde in all her bitchy glory.
“Oh, then—” When I spot that red hair that drives me insane, I stop listening. Frizzy? No, it’s fucking wild and untamed. I want to sink my fingers into her curls, maybe wrap them around my fingers or possibly even my dick.
Riley tightens her hold on the book she’s carrying, pressing it to her chest when she catches sight of me, her eyes bouncing to the blonde. As she gets closer, I notice she has a slight limp.
“Riley.” I dart toward her, noticing the marks on her knees. I grab her arm, stopping her. “Babe, what the hell happened?”
“Nothing.” She tries to break free from my grasp. I only let her go so she won’t hurt her arm. I can see her peeking over at the blonde and her friends who are watching us. I ignore them and take the book from Riley and her bag.
“I’m taking it,” I say before she can protest. She doesn’t fight with me. I assume it's because we have an audience. I open the car door for her, wanting to get her alone and all to myself because, one way or another, she’s going to tell me what the fuck happened… and who I have to kill.
4
RILEY
Iplace my hands over my knees to cover the scrapes, not wanting to talk about them. Nikolai tosses my stuff into the small back seat. He’s more pissed off than normal. I’m not sure what I am. A bundle of nerves, maybe? This day keeps getting worse by the second. At least it’s a Friday, and I don’t have to be back at this school for a few days.
“Spit it out,” Nikolai orders. I ignore him. Why doesn’t he go speak to Becky? And did he call me babe a few minutes ago? It must have been a slip of the tongue. “Riley.” He emits a growl that resembles the sound of a ferocious bear.
“What?” I snip back. I’m sick of everyone’s crap today. I’ve had enough.
“What happened?” He reaches over and grabs my wrists, lifting my hands off my knees so he can see them.
“It’s fine. I fell.” It’s not a complete lie.
“No shit you fell. How did you fall?”
“I tripped.”
“Don’t lie. You’re shit at it.” My eyes start to sting with tears. It’s not a total lie. I did trip, but not one hundred percent on my own. Becky and her little clique might have helped me along.
“Can we just go?” Everyone is watching Nikolai's car. Becky isn’t hiding the fact that she is very interested in Nikolai. She does have a boyfriend, but from what I've learned, Becky always gets what she wants.
“Fine.” Nikolai starts the car before reaching over and pulling my seat belt on. His arm grazes against my breast. We both go completely still. Nikolai’s eyes lock with mine. He’s so close, I can feel his warm breath tickle my lips. “This isn’t over.” The seat belt's click is loud in the car.
Thankfully, Nikolai doesn’t ask any more questions as he drives me back to the condo. Marco is still standing guard at the elevator when we arrive home.
“How’d it go?” he asks me when I step out of the car.
“I think I killed it.” The calculus test was the only positive thing about this day.
Marco gives me a high five as I pass him. Nikolai mutters something in what I believe to be Russian. I recall him asking me this morning if I talked to every man. Is that why he’s so pissed all the time? Why does he even care?