Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
“Zo, you’re fighting an aggressive cancer that’s trying to kill you,” I tell her bluntly. “I know you wanted some form of normalcy for your birthday, but you’re not normal. You don’t get to have normal right now, not until you’re better.”
She silently weeps on the other end, and I immediately feel like a dick.
“I’m on my way, okay?” I tell her. “Fuck, I need to hold you.”
“They’re discharging me soon,” she tells me. “Can you meet me at my place? Mom is going to drive me home.”
“Whatever you need, baby.”
“I’m sorry,” she finally says. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have gone to school, but I just—”
“You don’t need to be sorry, Zo. I shouldn’t have said that just now. I just hate this happened and I wasn’t there for you,” I tell her. “You fucking scared me, babe. When Hope called—”
“Hope was just scared. She overreacted,” she says. “Besides, if I wasn’t an idiot and used all my energy like that, I would have been okay. I just panicked and didn’t know what to do, so I ran, and I—I thought I was going to make it.”
“As long as you’re good now,” I tell her, though I say it for myself, needing to repeat the words a million times over. “You’re okay.”
“I am. I—shit. I have to go. The doctor is back to discharge me,” she says. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
“You got it, Zo,” I murmur. “I love you.”
“Love you, too,” she says before ending the call and leaving me gasping for air. I white-knuckle the steering wheel all the way back into East View, only able to focus on the road simply because I know Zoey is safe with her mom, back at home, and hopefully tucked in bed.
The drive feels as though it takes a lifetime, and as I speed through the very streets my brother was killed on, I find myself passing Tarni Luca’s home. Her car is in the driveway, along with her friend’s Lexus. I can never remember the names of the girls she hangs out with, but they were all shitty friends to Zoey when she needed them most.
Before I know what I’m doing, I hit the brakes and pull up over the curb, my Camaro screeching to a halt and tearing up her father’s pristine lawn. The anger is like nothing I’ve ever known as I push my way out of my car and storm up to the front door.
I don’t knock, don’t stop to check who’s home, simply bring my foot up and kick down the fucking door, breaking right through the lock. The door violently swings open, and as I cross the threshold, I hear the terrified screams of the girls coming from inside.
I follow the sound, my hands in tight fists at my side, and I walk through to find Tarni and her two sheep hovering around the kitchen island. Their eyes are wide and filled with terror, gaping at me as though I’m an ax-wielding serial killer ready to turn them into a statistic. And honestly, the idea sounds intriguing. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for Zoey, but despite how I feel about these girls, she wouldn’t want that. She’s too fucking pure for her own good.
Recognizing me, they all let out heavy sighs of relief, one of the friends placing a kitchen knife back on the counter and shaking out her hand as though she was clutching it with a death grip, but my venomous stare remains locked on Tarni.
She gapes at me, knowing damn well this isn’t about to go her way.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she demands, trying to find courage, but she won’t find it, not here. “You broke my door.”
“You broke my fucking girl,” I spit, walking straight into her and grabbing her arm, yanking her off the island stool and to her feet, needing to meet her stare straight on. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’ve done?”
Tarni scoffs. “Dramatic much?”
I can’t fucking believe this bitch.
I know Zoey wanted to keep it quiet, but I can’t anymore. Tarni needs to know exactly what it is she did today. I want to see the exact moment the guilt hits her, and I hope she drowns in it just like I do every fucking day.
“How fucking stupid can you be?” I roar. “You were there the first time. You sat at her side for eighteen fucking months while she went through her leukemia treatments.”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” she throws back at me.
I shake my head, unable to believe that she can’t put the pieces together by herself. “Are you fucking kidding me? Do yourself a favor and think about it for once in your miserable fucking life. She’s been gone for months at a time, coming back weak and slim and barely able to hold herself up. And now, she’s lost her fucking hair, and instead of seeing the bigger fucking picture, you humiliated her.”