Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
“Only because I couldn’t trust you, and I was right,” he states.
“So was I.”
“You seem to be forgetting we still have your sister,” he reminds me.
My gut burns, but I keep my voice calm. “And I’ve still got what you want.”
This time his inhale is sharper, angrier. “And from the way you behaved today, it doesn’t look like you want her back.”
I fist the phone tighter as fury explodes in my stomach. Fury and fear for my Lynnie. Fear that I’ll fail her. Like I’ve failed her for the last sixteen years. Not only with the accident but also after, for years on end. By punishing her for wanting to move on, to live her life, to not be stuck in the past like me. By wanting the same thing for myself. So much fear that it’s too late, that I waited too long to make amends, to apologize for being the worst brother who ever lived.
Somehow managing to keep my voice steady, though, I reply, “And again, with the games you’ve been playin’, don’t much look like you want what I’ve got for you either.”
“Seems like we’re at an impasse then,” he says after a few seconds.
I keep staring into the dark as I drawl, “How about I make you a deal?”
“A deal,” he repeats, his voice deceptively mild. “All right, let’s hear it.”
“You tell me who you are and why you want to kill the Turner Princess, and I’ll bring her to you wherever you want.” I couldn’t have stopped the growl in my chest even if I wanted to before I go on, “That’s what you want, don’t you. That’s why your cockroach of a man shot at her.”
I remember that. The exact moment it happened.
The exact moment when I looked up and realized she was going to be shot. That there was a gun pointed at her.
It seemed like my whole world was going to explode and go dark. Just like it did sixteen years ago. Only back then, I didn’t realize it was going to happen so all I remember was shock. Not this time, though. This time, I could see and feel every single second it took for me to dive at her, to cover her with my body so nothing could touch her.
Every single second of panic, terror, the absolute fucking horror that I was going to lose her. That she was going to… I remember living a hundred lifetimes in those seconds and dying a thousand deaths. I remember feeling, for the very first time, like a true monster. I call myself that because I believe I am one, but I don’t think I’d ever felt more monstrous than I did in those few seconds. Monstrous enough to torch the world and destroy it for a princess.
My Princess. Because that’s what she is. Not the Turner Princess, but mine. And I’m not going to fight it anymore.
“I must say,” his voice comes through, and I breathe deep. “For someone who hates the Turners, you’re a little too concerned about the Turner Princess. I thought they killed your family, or at least that’s what the rumors say, and you’d only be too happy to watch them burn.”
So he knows.
It’s not a surprise. I figured he did, figured that’s why he picked me to do his dirty work instead of anyone else. He probably thought I had the strongest motive, and I will admit he wasn’t wrong. Everyone in the town knows how the Turners killed my parents and gave me my scars, on both the inside and the outside. While people speculate on Lynnie and her whereabouts and whether she’s alive or dead, they know I’m the living reminder of that tragedy. The fact that this man, whoever the fuck he is, thought he could use that against me, use my family’s destruction to get what he wants, means I’m going to have to get very, very creative with how I destroy him. How I make him wish he never knew about it or me.
“Not to mention the Grayson–Turner rivalry that no one ever seems to shut up about in this town,” he goes on. “You can’t even get a decent cup of coffee without hearing about it. So I thought we could be friends.”
“You know so much about me already,” I reply, “it feels unnecessary to point out, but here goes: I ain’t the friendship type. I don’t like people. I like it even less when they think they can control me, tell me what to do and where to go like I’m their personal lapdog. So here’s what we’re gonna do: You want the Turner girl, you bring me my sister. Safe and unharmed. To my place and time of choosin’. Is that clear?”
He takes in a sharp breath, but his tone is deceptively calm. “Are you making the rules now?”