Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 131926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I shrug my shoulders. “Tell me everything you know about the guy,” I say, feeling my stomach twist with guilt. If only she knew that the guy she’s seeing is a member of Dynasty, and also the guy who managed to place himself right at the top of my shit list—right under Carver of course.
Jacob Scardoni was at the party in the woods and after Carver let me know what he thought of my theory that he was being a double agent and had something to do with it, my suspicions fell on Jacob. If I’m completely honest, I think I’ve always suspected Jacob. He seems far too shady to me.
Ember told me she had a crush on him for ages, and now suddenly, he wants to be with her. It’s too convenient, plus the fact that he just happened to be at that party right before the hitmen were sent after me. Who else would have known that Carver had me alone in the woods?
Jacob is using her as a pawn to keep an eye on me. At least, that’s what I think. I really hope for Ember’s sake that he’s genuine because if he breaks her heart, I’m going to break his face, and I’m going to enjoy every last second of it.
She starts going on and on about their date over the weekend, and the longer she talks, the harder it is for me to smile. This bitch was out getting wined and dined while I was pacing the small concrete floor of my cell. But I’m not here to bring her down.
I don’t know why I’ve been holding back from Ember. I want my world and hers to stay completely separate. She’s my light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe it’s her innocence that draws me in. The last thing I want is to corrupt her precious soul and expose her to the real ugliness of what my life has been like over the past month. Besides, if she knew just how easily I shoved that blade through Royston Carver, she’d be horrified. She’d never talk to me again, and I couldn’t possibly handle that.
I need Ember in my life; I need her to keep me grounded and remind me of the important things.
Ember goes on about her date and tells me in fine detail about the extra special activities they participated in afterward. As she does, I find myself comparing Jacob to King and Cruz, and I come to the conclusion that Jacob Scardoni doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. It looks like poor Ember got the consolation prize while I took home the gold.
As she talks, I look back over my shoulder just as Grayson slips my helmet inside his locker and my lips press into a hard line. I know he’s just trying to be helpful by holding it for me, but in reality, he’s taking my freedom without even realizing it. Though, how could he? Normal people wouldn’t have an issue with it, but I’m not normal people.
I never ride my bike without my helmet. I’ve heard way too many horror stories and it makes me cringe every time I see Cruz taking off without one. But not having it close by means that I can’t just run out of here and escape in the blink of an eye. I’m trapped here until Grayson decides to walk his toned ass back down the hallway and unlock his damn locker. Though, I could always go and ask for it, but that would mean admitting that my helmet is a security blanket, and I’m not about to lower myself to those standards in front of a guy like Grayson, who would no doubt use it against me.
Letting out a sigh, I turn back to my locker to close the door, but as I go, I catch Carver’s pained stare and a heaviness instantly drops into my stomach. I hold his stare for a second longer, and as I do, a million messages seem to pass between us, but like two people who struggle to communicate, I can’t understand a damn thing that he’s trying to tell me. All I know is that whatever he’s trying to say, it’s going to hurt.
Fuck him. Why does this have to suck so bad?
Not being able to handle his intensity, I tear my gaze away and focus on what I’m doing, and before I know it, the bell sounds through the school and Ember drags me away. We step into our homeroom class and watch as Mr. Bennett makes a point of ignoring the students piling through his door.
I take my seat beside Ember and we talk quietly between ourselves until Mr. Bennett is striding across the room and closing the heavy door. He goes through the attendance, and by the time he’s taking his seat again and putting his feet up on his desk, the classroom door flies open.