Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 748(@200wpm)___ 598(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Scottie?” she says when her bloodshot eyes lock with mine. With just a look at her, I can tell she’s shit-faced. After all, it’s her most familiar look.
So much for fucking sobriety, huh?
“I think Scottie is ready to talk to you now, Mrs. Bardeaux,” Dane comments snidely, his snakish charm so blunt, the only thing missing is a split tongue. Nadine continues filming and laughing from her spot in the corner, swinging the camera to me for a brief capture of my devastation.
The text messages, the torture, my mom somehow finding me at a random college party in the middle of my university—I’m surer than ever that Dane and Nadine are behind it all.
“Scottie, honeys,” my mom slurs as she literally climbs off the guy’s cock and starts searching for her clothes. She’s completely naked and too drunk to make any attempt to cover herself with a sheet, instead walking right toward me like we’re seeing each other at a sidewalk café somewhere. “I’m so happy you’re here. I miss you. I want to talk to you.”
“Aw, Scottie,” Nadine chimes in. “Your mom misses you so much that she came to Dickson and fucked a frat guy just for you.”
As gossip does what gossip does and starts to spread like wildfire, people flood in from the living room to get a look at my personal hell.
“Everybody get the fuck out of here!” Blake yells at the door, trying his hardest to manage the situation, but the nausea in my stomach becomes so intense that saliva floods my mouth, and I throw up, right there, all over the floor.
Nadine and Dane cackle like hyenas as I fight to standing again.
Dane forms a gun with his hand and points it straight at me, mouthing a single word of pure evil. “Bang.”
This isn’t some random guy I had a fling with or someone I hardly know. This is a guy I spent two years of my life with. A guy I thought was my first love.
I can’t pretend I’ve got it together anymore. The phenomenon is over.
This is my breaking point.
Finn
Gary drops us off right in front of the Delta Omega house on the way home from poker, where winter-break-happy students swarm every available part of the yard and front steps.
It’s a smart move by Ace, considering he would have had to stun-gun me to get out of our room had we gone back there first, but now that we’re here, I’m at least moderately okay with it.
The state of things with Scottie has gotten entirely out of hand, and after some self-reflection forced on me by the billionaires, it’d be so fucking pointless to leave things the way they are going into the new year. She was trying to help me and made a mistake. Fuck knows I’ve done a lot worse, and it’s time for the stubborn dick in me to let it all go.
A girl in a skimpy red dress runs down the stairs at the sight of Ace, barreling into his arms immediately, and my eyebrows draw together. Is there really a Scarlett? I thought Ace was bullshitting.
“Ace, you gotta get in here!” she orders, throwing a hand back toward the door as a stampede of people previously in the yard funnel through the door. My eyebrows draw together, but she keeps talking. “Something’s going down in one of the bedrooms!”
It’s only then that I notice the music has stopped too, the whole vibe of the house off.
Ace’s face mirrors mine as he has a similar realization, and he sets Scarlett away from himself gently. “Did you see Julia Brooks in there? Or Scottie Bardeaux?”
She nods. “Yeah, they were both in there, last I saw.”
Ace and I share a look, and I take off into the house. I hear him say, “Stay here, Scar,” behind me, but I’m through the door and shoving through the herd of people before I have a chance to hear anything else.
Something going down in one of the bedrooms is one of the most terrifying things I’ve heard in my life.
Blake’s voice booms over the din of chatter. “Get the fuck back!” My chest seizes, and I move through people without remorse, setting bodies out of the way with the bare minimum of care for their well-being and checking faces as I do. I don’t see Scottie or Julia anywhere, and white-hot panic makes my chest burn.
I spot Blake blocking a doorway, still shouting at people to get back, and I make a beeline over to him. I’m no longer even minimally careful as I maneuver through students to get to that doorway.
“Oh, come on, Scottie. You should look a little happier to see your mom.” I don’t even have to see him to know those words came from Dane’s mouth.
Laughter ensues, and the students outside the doorway are trying their hardest to get a look at whatever is happening in that room.