Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173392 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 867(@200wpm)___ 694(@250wpm)___ 578(@300wpm)
The door opens, and I peer around him as he releases me. A brunette peeks her head inside his room, and I think she was downstairs with Army’s date. I think her name is Carissa.
She sees me, smiles, and bites her bottom lip. “Need anything?” she asks us.
I stare at her. Do we need anything?
Why would …
I turn to him, but he’s just watching me.
He leans down, planting his hands on the desk at my sides and gets in my face. “Tell her I’m yours tonight,” he says.
What?
It takes about a second and a half for me to realize she’s his backup plan. I shove him away and start for the door.
Jesus. So either I claim him or she will?
When I whip open the door, the girl slides out of my way. “You can stay,” she tells me. “We can both play.”
“Krisjen’s not brave,” Trace says like I’m not here. “Or is she?”
I’m not letting him bait me. “No, I am.” I toss him a glance. “Maybe I’ll do that someday. I’m just not going to do it with you.”
And I walk out, slamming the door behind me.
Motherfucker. I’m half-tempted to call his sister and rat him out, but she wouldn’t be surprised, and I have some pride left.
Plus, she loves the hell out of him.
Trace has always been deliberately irresponsible, but unlike Milo, he’s nice. Not very considerate, but not once did I ever get the impression it was personal. I didn’t love him, so I didn’t worry about it.
But that was personal. I was well aware he wasn’t going to miss me when this was over, but it’s not like him to rub things like that in.
Rain hits the windows, and I head down the stairs, barely noticing the house is now quiet and dark. Lightning flashes outside, and I fist the keys, opening the front door. I take a step but stop, remembering the gator.
Looking around, I scan the yard and the dirt road beyond the fence, spotting lights from the fire station next door and the repair shop across the street. Music beats against the walls of the bar far off to my left, but most of the cars have cleared out of the Jaegers’ place, and I don’t see anyone—or anything—outside.
I would love an escort to my car, but I’m not about to ask Trace for help. I leap out into the yard, pulling the door closed behind me, and run to my car. Drops hit my head as I round the front of the vehicle, but before I can hit the button to unlock it, I know something is off. The car isn’t level. I drop my eyes to the front tire on the driver’s side, seeing it’s flat at the same time I notice a gash in the rubber. Right there. Plain as day.
I drop my head back, growling. “Ugh!”
Goddammit, Aracely. Seriously. She’s not even interested in Trace. What did I ever do to her?
And I know it’s her. She pulled the same shit with my friend Amy this summer, which I sympathized with, because Amy hooked up with Dallas and Iron. Both Aracely’s exes.
I can see her being aggravated that a Saint is sleeping over here. Having fun with their men (as she would see it). But Trace was never hers. And I thought she liked me.
I guess she thought she’d put up with me until I left for college, and since I didn’t, she’s now letting me know that my time is up.
The wind stirs, rain blowing sideways, and I climb into my car and pull out my phone.
I dial Maker Street Tow Service, but the line just rings. I hang up and try again, but it goes to voicemail.
I start to dial Clay but stop. She worked tonight. And she has classes.
I hover my thumb over my phone. Mom, Dad …
Milo would come and get me. For sure. They’d all come and get me, but they can all fuck off. Can I drive on a flat tire?
I think that hurts the rims or something, but I push the button, turning over the engine anyway. Shifting into Drive, I press the gas and nearly topple over, grabbing the steering wheel in both hands for support. “Damn,” I blurt out.
Shutting off the engine, I dash back out into the rain and run around the car, seeing the rear passenger tire is flat, too.
I throw out my hands. “Jesus, Aracely. Do you want me to leave, or are you trying to keep me here?” I call out to the empty street, just picturing her watching all this from the woods.
Goddamn.
Locking my car, I run back into the house and up the stairs. Swinging open the door to Liv’s room, I spot someone asleep on the bed and stop.
Face down, no shirt … I have no idea who it is, but I can’t crash here.