Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
A sudden knock against the door breaks the sense of peace. “Yo, what the fuck?” The doorknob jiggles like somebody’s trying to force a key to turn. Only it already has. It just hasn’t unlocked the door, is all. “Wren? What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
I should ignore him. Let him think I’m not here. It’s the smartest thing to do—the less I engage with him, the less damage he can do to my life. Spending the day with Maya really helped me feel more in control. I don’t need to let him do this to me.
At least, that’s what I’m telling myself as he starts pounding on the door hard enough to make the mirror hanging on my side rattle. “Wren? I know you’re in there! Open this fucking door.”
I have to bite my lip to keep myself quiet. He can’t be sure I’m here. He’s totally bluffing.
“This is your last warning.” God, he sounds like an animal, huffing and puffing. Like the big, bad wolf, ready to blow the door down. “Open this fucking door right now, or I kick it in. Your choice, little bird. What’s it gonna be?”
He’s bluffing. Isn’t he? He wouldn’t really do that.
Shouldn’t I know better by now?
The first kick makes me yelp in surprise. “I knew it,” he growls from the other side of the door. “I knew you were in there. You can’t hide from me. I know everything about you. I know exactly where to find you, because you belong to me. When are you going to figure that out?” Another kick. Another one. He’s going to break the door. And then what? How do I explain this?
I can’t believe he’s making me do it. Getting up off the bed, I go to the door and flip the lock. Giving him access to me again.
The door flies open, and he storms in, his face red, his teeth clenched the way his fists are. “Why do you do things like this? Why do you waste your time trying to keep me away from you?” He advances on me, breathing hard, and there’s nothing for me to do but back away until I fall onto the bed. He looms over me, his eyes wide and wild and, for a second, I’m sure this is it. He’s going to kill me this time.
One thing is obvious: he’s sober. He doesn’t get this mad when he’s high. “I just want a little privacy,” I explain. My voice is strangely calm and reasonable.
“I’m the one who decides if you deserve privacy,” he fires back. “Say it. Say the words.”
I won’t. I can’t. I can’t let him take that from me. He’s already taken so much. My pride, my dignity. My virginity. None of which I gave him permission to take.
When I don’t fall in line, he growls, taking another step until he’s a second away from falling on top of me. All I can do is brace myself for whatever is coming.
“Let’s go.” He’s like two different people, totally changing the conversation in the blink of an eye. He grabs me by the wrist and hauls me to my feet. “Put on some shoes. Or you can go barefoot, for all I care.”
“Go where? I’m not going anywhere with you. I have—”
“Did I ask for your opinion? We’re going out. To a party.”
To a party? With me? A disbelieving laugh falls out of my mouth, but he doesn’t react except to narrow his eyes. “Let’s go,” he grunts. “I’m going to count to five, and then I’m pulling you out with me. One.” He folds his arms, smirking. “Two.”
He means it. And I really don’t feel like going out in bare feet. There’s a pair of canvas flats next to the bed, which I quickly shove my feet into before grabbing my purse. “Three,” he continues.
“Okay, okay,” I grumble, running my hands through my hair. “But why would you want to go out with me? What do you really want?”
Something wicked passes over his face and his eyes light up in a way that chills me to my core. “You’ll see.” He takes my wrist again, dragging me out of the room. I barely have time to close the door behind me before he’s pulling me down the hall.
What does he have up his sleeve now? And how much is he going to make me regret ever setting eyes on him?
22
BRIGGS
I’m still angry at her little deadbolt stunt when we pull up in front of Carter’s house. The driveway is already packed with cars, so I park on the street instead.
“I expect you to be on your best behavior. Don’t embarrass me in front of my friends,” I warn.
“What does that even mean?” She folds her arms across her chest, clearly uncomfortable being here.