Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Luke, come on.”
“I never sought Georgia out to do shit.” That first day I met him, it had been Georgia that bumped into him, but he could have moved.
“That doesn’t let you off the hook. You’ve borne witness to it. To how she was treated by them.”
“And that’s my problem?”
“It seems now it is.”
“All right.” He drops his hands holding me and takes a step back. Wow, okay. “Don’t look disappointed, Buttercup.”
“I’m not,” I say way too defensively, clueing him in to how I really feel.
“I’ve gotta make friends with Georgia and find a dead girl. Starting to think you’re high-maintenance.” He smirks, knowing damn well what it does to me. Why do I have to be so attracted to this man?
Chapter Sixteen
LUKE
It didn’t take too long for a missing person’s alert to go out. It’s not public; enough time hasn’t passed, but that’s the perk of coming and going from the dean’s home. You overhear shit. For the most part, I don’t bother to listen because I don’t care, but I do now.
When trying hard to recall the dead girl, the description does fit. It’s Coach Murphy. Who would want to kill the Ice Crew coach and shove her in a boathouse? That is one of many things I’ve been mulling over, but one issue is pressing down hard on me.
There’s the fact that Madeline Pearson had broken into her office. I don’t think she offed the coach, but I also know that no one can find out about it either. I don’t want a target or inkling of suspicion of any of this on Madeline. It’s not helping that we saw the body either. That would only stack up against her. It’s why I don’t say shit to my brother. I do, however, need to talk to everyone.
I text Madeline and Grant. We all agree to meet at my brother’s. He’s out for the next few hours, and no one will overhear us there. It’s the safest bet. It doesn’t take them long to get there. I have everyone come up to my room. I don’t need Bennett walking in on this.
My eyes are on Madeline when she enters my bedroom. There isn’t much to it. The same as my dorm. I want to see hers now. It would be hard to guess how Madeline would decorate. She really is a mix of everything. You never know what you’re going to get.
“It’s the first time you’ve ever called me to hang out.” Grant winks at me. I ignore his comment but see his eyes go straight over to Georgia, who is peering around my room curiously. He’s into her. That’s got to be it. This might not be the worst outcome for me.
Madeline wants me in Georgia’s good graces. Grant can talk me up to her and possibly keep her occupied.
“Oh, you have Banana Kicks!” Georgia picks them up from my desk. “I love these.”
“They’re all yours,” I tell her.
“What?” For the first time maybe ever, Georgia makes eye contact with me. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.”
“No, that’s okay. They can be a pain to get.” Oh, I fucking know that.
“It’s fine.” I shrug it off to downplay it, and I can feel Madeline watching me. I had to do some digging to get information on Georgia and what she likes and dislikes. It wasn’t easy or cheap. “We have a ton of them.”
“Oh.” She gives me a tentative smile. “Thank you.” It’s barely a whisper, and that shit hits me sideways. Georgia is intimidated by me. How could she not be? I only wanted people to leave me alone. Instead, I’ve got girls who weigh a third what I do hesitant to speak to me.
Georgia doesn’t think she’s better than anyone. That assumption was on me. At this moment, I have never felt more like my father’s son, and I loathe it. It doesn’t make me feel big that I’ve made her scared of me. It has the opposite effect. Now Madeline has me pondering all kinds of shit, which will have to wait until later.
“Anytime. We’ve got more in the pantry,” I add.
“That’s sweet,” Madeline says, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed where her sweet ass belongs.
“Are you feeling okay?” Grant asks me. He’s always fucking asking me that, but he’s a perceptive fucker.
“I’m fine, but Coach Murphy isn’t,” I tell them. I might as well rip off the Band-Aid.
“Why are you saying that?” As Madeline asks the question, tilting her head to the side, I know she’s already putting it together.
“She’s the dead girl.” Georgia lets out a small gasp, and Madeline covers her mouth with her hand. Grant’s expression remains unfazed as he pulls out the chair at my desk for Georgia to sit in, and she mutters a thank you to him.
“Why would anyone want to kill her?” Madeline drops her hand.