Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
“I can’t deal with you right now.” I sweep my arm against his chest and walk past him.
“Don’t make a scene.” He grabs my arm and yanks me backward.
“I won’t.” Just going to claim my girl and kick Torch’s ass if he gets in my way.
“Here.” He sweeps a stupid Ghostface mask out of his back pocket and slaps it against my chest. “If you’re really not supposed to have people post your picture online, put that on.”
I stare at the black fabric hood and white rubber face with black eyes and nose, and the mouth stretched wide into a permanent creepy imitation of a scream. “Did you wear it?”
“Earlier.”
“Great, so it smells like dog breath?” I mutter as I slip it over my head.
“Woof, woof, dickhead.”
I can barely see out of the dark fabric covering the eyeholes. “This is bullshit.”
I’m not even complaining about the stupid mask. It’s everything. The show still controlling my every move. Molly still blocking my texts and calls. My friends thinking I’m an asshole. Losing to a jackass like Naptime—when I know I’m a better fighter. Molly “dating” Torch.
Whatever timeline I’ve been dropped into sucks. I want my life back.
Feeling like an asshole with only my red plaid coat, jeans, and boots to go with the mask, I navigate my way across the asphalt, heading for the racetrack and the food shacks behind it.
I recognize a few people but don’t bother saying hello. Molly. She’s all that matters. I need to get her someplace quiet so we can talk. I need her in my arms. I need to bury my face in her hair and inhale her. Taste her skin. Hear her voice.
Torch, that red-headed motherfucker, took off his wolf mask, leaving his stupid orange hair sticking up all over the place. He’s still standing way too close to my girl. Thank fuck he’s not actually touching her. I’d hate to ruin the party by ripping off his arm and beating him with it in front of everyone.
My boots crunch over a few loose stones, drawing Torch’s attention as I close in on them. The corners of his mouth turn down. This mask isn’t fooling anyone. I yank it off my head and glare at him as I approach.
Molly turns her head. Even with the black bunny mask blocking my view, our eyes lock. Her mouth falls open and she takes a step back.
No. No. No.
Is she afraid of me? Or just desperate to get away from me?
She glances at Torch, then again at me.
I stop in front of them and drill Torch with a fuck-off stare.
“Leave,” I snarl.
He flashes a cocky smirk. “Welcome home, Griff.”
“Now.”
Torch raises his eyebrows at Molly.
“It’s fine,” Molly whispers. “We’re fine.” She nods toward the racetrack where her friends are huddled together watching our showdown, silently asking him to leave.
Torch blows out a breath and squeezes her shoulder. “I’ll be close if you need me.”
“She won’t need you.” I force as much menace as possible into my voice.
He hesitates for another few seconds, then finally walks off toward the grill.
And I’m finally alone with my girl.
Every minute since I left, I’ve ached for Molly.
And now she’s right in front of me. Why does she still feel so far away?
She stares at the ground while I let my eyes roam over every inch of her. Even though I can only see the half of her face not hidden by the mask, she steals my damn breath.
Her body shivers and she crosses her arms over her chest, drawing my attention to her short costume.
“You want my coat?” I slip the thick, red-and-black hunter’s plaid wool shirt-coat off my shoulders. “It matches your outfit.”
Her teeth chatter and she hugs herself righter. Still refusing to look at me, she shrugs.
She lets me drape the coat over her shoulders, and even curls her fingers into the wool to pull it tighter.
That’s progress.
Don’t get excited, she’s just cold.
“Can we talk?”
“There’s nothing to say,” she rasps in a low, hollow voice I barely recognize.
Is this what I did to her?
The first hint of uncertainty grips me. All along, I thought I’d be able to fix this the minute we spoke. She knows me. She’ll understand.
“Let’s walk.” We’re alone for the moment but a lot of people are still roaming around. I don’t need anyone else interfering.
She sighs and turns, heading behind the food shacks where a long, grassy path stretches all the way to the chainlink fence that encircles the property.
This is not the loving reunion I pictured with my girl.
“I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” she says over her shoulder.
Is that her way of saying she wishes I hadn’t? Or that she’s sorry I saw her with Torch?
We keep walking, slipping between pools of bright light from the shacks and dark shadows behind the buildings. The scents of various fried foods mingle together.