Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
I scowl at him.
He smirks.
Ugh! I don’t have time to deal with his bullshit. I stomp over to the counter and quickly register his name into the system. “Your ID.”
He passes me his ID card and I finish his registration. I hand him his brand-new library card and wait for him to leave. Only he doesn’t leave. Colton stands there, staring at me. Still grinning. I’m not exactly a violent person, but I want to smack that grin off his face. What the hell is wrong with him? He’s quite literally insane, I think.
“You’re annoyed,” he finally claims.
My fists clench and I glare at him. “Anything else, Mr. Bennett?”
He slowly cocks his head to the side. “Be right back.”
With a frustrated sigh, I watch him disappear between the shelves and then a minute later, he’s back at the counter. Colton hands me a thick book. “I’ll borrow this.”
I take the book from him. It’s an autobiography, written by an author in 1893. “This?” I question, incredulously. It’s one of those books that stays on the shelves forever. No one ever borrows them and they just sit there, collecting dust.
“Yes, this. Is there a problem?”
My brow shoots up and I shrug. “Nope.” I scan the barcode and write the date onto the slip of paper inside the cover. “There you go. Happy reading.”
He takes his book and simply nods. And then he’s gone.
Good riddance.
I slump against the counter, letting out a heavy exhale. My gaze sweeps over the counter and the scattered papers. I guess I should start cleaning up.
I’m stacking the papers in order when my eyes catch sight of something familiar. My heart stammers and I blink, confused.
A mint candy. The one I specifically like. The one that Lila carries with her all the time.
The same candy that Colton left on my nightstand yesterday.
A candy that was most definitely not on the counter when I got here.
My head snaps up, looking toward the exit, but Colton has already disappeared.
Why…?
Why is he doing this? What is the purpose behind his…sudden kindness? It doesn’t make sense. He confuses me.
Is it pity from him? Or is this all just a game to Colton Bennett?
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Colton — 18 years old (A week later)
The world becomes almost pitch-black and the buckling, heavy dark sky looks ready to collapse any second now. The gloomy clouds, pregnant with malice, churns as loud thunder rolls. The windows shake with the force of its fury.
A thunderous lightning strikes through the darkened sky, briefly illuminating the world before dragging it back into another dark void. The wind howls as I prowl anxiously in my living room, back and forth.
The sky opens up, and the rain pours. Unleashing a cataclysmic violence upon us. I hear the hiss of another bout of lightning, before it clashes with a roar.
The lights of my apartment flicker.
The rain clacks vehemently against the windows.
While we won’t be receiving the full force of the hurricane, we’re still going to feel the remnants of it. And it’s already here.
The bulbs flicker again, before I am suddenly drowned into darkness.
I stand still, staring out of my window as I wait for the building’s generator to start up. It only takes about two minutes before the lights are back on.
At least we won’t have to pull through the storm without electricity.
But something else is eating me from the inside, and I don’t know what exactly. Thunderstorms don’t scare me. Weirdly, I find peace in them. Almost like I’ve discovered a companion in the malevolence that accompanies the ruthless storms. A hostility that’s familiar to the one in my very own soul.
But this time…it’s different.
An insistent worry gnaws at my gut.
An uncertainty that courses through my veins.
My prowling grows more restless, until the pressure around my lungs seems to squeeze the oxygen out of me.
She’s there. Alone in her apartment.
No…wait, I don’t care.
She’s always so skittish, so vulnerable. Is she scared right now?
I don’t care…
Thunder crashes through the sky once more, and this time, the explosion is like a sonic boom. The violent sound resonates through my body, shaking every molecule. My heart stammers.
I don’t care…
Goddamn it!
With a frustrated grunt, I stomp out of my apartment.
I fucking hate this.
I hate that I can’t seem to calm myself down.
I hate that in the midst of a storm, all I’m thinking about is her.
Riley fucking Johnson.
I knock on the door of her apartment, waiting with bated breath. After a few seconds of no response, I use the spare key to unlock the door. Pushing inside her apartment, I am met with complete darkness. All the lights are off.
I close the door behind me while calling out her name. “Riley?”
Except for the thunder and the sound of pouring rain, I hear nothing else. I strain my ears to hear any movement, but her apartment is eerily still.