Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99766 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 333(@300wpm)
“She’s out for the season,” Dad mutters in an absent tone as he parks in the garage under the building. “Fuck.”
Sadness plucks at my heart. Tierra loves basketball. It’s her absolute favorite thing in life. Sage stole it by being a psycho bitch. Tierra may have made some bad decisions and upset Sage, but that was no reason to break her damn ankle.
“She’ll be okay,” I murmur. I hope.
“We’ll make sure of it.”
I glance over at my dad. He hurt my mother and brother years ago. Both were mistakes on his part—mistakes he’s been working hard to atone for ever since. But Dad is a good man, no matter what he’s done. His good deeds far outweigh his few bad ones. I’m so happy he moved to Hood River. It’s nice having him to count on him.
After we park, we drag ourselves upstairs and to the loft. Jace is sitting in a chair, glaring at the floor. Charlotte and Cal are sprawled out, watching a movie. Loden is stretched out on the floor, the glow of his phone lighting his face.
Jace snaps his head up, his stare softening when he sees me. “Tierra okay?”
“Her ankle is broken,” Dad says, walking over to him. “She won’t play any more basketball this season.”
Cal sits up, scooting Charlotte to sit next to him. “Where is she now?”
“Terrence took her back to your place,” Dad tells him. “She wasn’t in the best mood when we left. Try not to give her your usual shit.”
Cal flips him off. “It’s pretty much my duty in life to give her hell.” He kicks Loden. “Get your shit. Let’s go.”
Charlotte and Loden stand up. She hugs Dad while Loden flirts with Cal. Jace seems unusually moody tonight because he’s not amused.
“I’m going to bed,” Jace grunts as he stands. He pushes past Loden, walking up to me. “Night, kiddo.” He tugs on my ponytail.
“Night, pet.”
I’m not in the mood to conversate, so I head for my room. After a quick shower, I text Terrence to check on Tierra.
Me: How is she?
Smash: I gave her my bed for the night. She was in pain but just really wiped out.
Me: Is the couch even long enough for you?
Smash: My feet hang off the end.
Me: You could come sleep with me. My big bed is empty.
Smash: Don’t tempt me.
I yawn, which makes my split lip sting, as fatigue consumes me.
Me: I had fun today. Lunch and ice cream. Thank you.
Smash: You’re my girl. I’d do that shit more often if you’d let me.
A smile tugs at my lips. I tongue the spot I reopened with my yawn, tasting the metallic blood.
Me: Maybe I will let you.
Buzz.
A video pings through and I swipe open the text, assuming it’s Terrence. As soon as I realize who it’s from, my blood runs cold.
Eli.
I don’t have to know the number to know who it’s from. As soon as the video starts playing, my blood runs cold.
“This cold, hateful bitch is getting exactly what she deserves,” Eli rumbles, though I can’t see him on the video. All I see is me. I can hear Aaron and Paxton laughing.
Eli reaches forward yanking down the front of my dress, to rip off my bra and then frees my breasts. Paxton comes into view, a Sharpie in his hand. He starts writing all over my chest while I lie there passed out.
Bile creeps up my throat. I want to turn it off, but I need to see what they did to me. Eli then shoves my dress up. He crudely fondles me before ripping my panties down my thighs.
“A souvenir,” Eli states, making the other two laugh. “I get to fuck her first.”
Paxton writes more crap on my thighs. “Whatever, man. Wrap your dick up, though, because I don’t want your crabs.”
“Is she going to wake up?” Aaron asks, nerves in his tone.
Eli snorts. “No, man. She’s down for the night. You need a little coke courage?”
“Hell yeah,” Paxton says, capping the Sharpie. “Let’s do this.”
The video sweeps over my exposed, sleeping body and Eli speaks again to my unmoving form. “We’ll continue this video when I’m fucking your nasty ass.”
It clicks off.
I stare at it, sick to my stomach.
Those bastards.
I want to kill them.
There should be tears or fear, but currently, they’re being drowned out by rage. My blood pressure rises and my heart threatens to explode. I climb out of bed and exit my bedroom. The loft is dark, Dad and Jace already in bed. Padding down the hall, I let myself into Jace’s room. The television lights up the dark room. He’s sprawled out in all his convict glory in a pair of boxers and nothing else. His eyebrow hitches up when he sees me.
“Nightmare? Need a cuddle, kiddo?” He grins at me in his usual taunting way.