Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1038(@200wpm)___ 831(@250wpm)___ 692(@300wpm)
It feels like an age.
Exactly like the night we had that fight and he made me promise that I’d never fall for him because he’d only break my heart.
The night I realized that I’d already fallen.
And exactly like that night, I hear the tires screeching in the driveway when he comes back. The sound of his Mustang door banging shut, his footsteps bounding up the porch stairs.
Tonight though, I haven’t locked the door.
I haven’t barricaded myself or erected barriers. Or walls.
I’m cut open and vulnerable as he enters through the door, carrying my favorite ice cream in a brown bag in his arms and I rise from the couch.
My phone slipping through my fingers and falling on the floor with a loud clatter that echoes around the house.
The glass house.
That belongs to his friend, Pete.
Reed glances down at the phone before looking up, “Fae, what —”
“I talked to your dad.”
I hit him with these words. Punch him.
Because he draws back.
For a second, that’s his only response, being pushed back slightly.
Before things happen.
Things like a flash of panic in his wolf eyes. The same one that I saw this morning, which confirms what I already knew after talking to his dad.
That is why Reed was so paranoid, panicked.
Because his father found out about me and Halo.
But the panic is only momentary. It’s replaced by anger.
Great, mighty anger that makes his arms loosen for a second so that paper bag slips out, before tightening up every inch of his body. Every single inch of his muscle, every bone and tendon and vein that I can see tightens up, stands out.
“What?” he spits out, his wolf eyes deadly.
“I… After we came back from Pete’s, I realized what your dream was. I realized that even you didn’t know. Or even if you did, you didn’t think you could have it. What you wanted. So I wanted to give it to you. I wanted you to have it, Roman, your dream. And so I got your dad’s number from Tempest and… and I called him.”
His vampire skin is stark white, leached of all color like his blood has frozen over.
Like there’s a chill inside of him.
That perpetual winter that makes him wear hoodies all the time.
White and pure and pristine hoodies that he loves so much.
“You called my dad,” he repeats in a low voice.
“Yes.”
He takes a step toward me. “After I told you not to.”
I clutch my dress, white, his favorite. “Yes.”
“After I made it clear that I didn’t want you anywhere near him,” he pushes out through clenched teeth, taking another step toward me. “After I made it crystal fucking clear that you’re not supposed to even think about it. You’re not supposed to interfere.”
I swallow. “You did but I had to.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because you’re killing yourself by working there. You don’t want to work there. You want something else.” And then, I can’t keep it in any longer, I have to say it to him, I have to beg him not to do it.
So I go to him. I meet him halfway.
I clutch his hoodie. “Don’t do it, Roman. Don’t do what your dad asked you to do. Don’t destroy Pete’s garage. Please.”
His jaw tics, his eyes violent and aggressive. “Do you have any idea how dangerous my father is? How big of a psychopath he is? He’s a fucking criminal, okay? A goddamn criminal. And I have done everything in my power to keep you safe from him.”
“Tell me,” I say as I grab onto the opening he’s given me. “Tell me what you’ve done. Tell me everything.”
Reed bends down, his face vicious. “You wanna know, Fae? You wanna know what I’ve done and what my dad can do?”
“Yes.”
“All right. You think he pressed those charges against you because he was trying to punish you, don’t you? Because you stole his precious son’s car. Isn’t that correct, Fae? Isn’t that what you think?”
“Yeah,” I say, fear clutching my heart.
“He didn’t. He doesn’t give a fuck that you stole my car or that you tried to destroy his son’s property. He doesn’t give a fuck,” he snaps, looming even closer. “He doesn’t give a fuck about you. He doesn’t care who you are or what you did. He pressed those charges against you because he wanted to get to me. Because he wanted to punish me, not you. He wanted to punish me for years of defying him, for taunting him with soccer. For taunting him with my scholarship, with my inevitable career in the pros. Yeah, he doesn’t give a fuck about you, Fae.”
He takes a moment to grind his teeth. “When I told him that I wouldn’t do his bidding if he didn’t make all the charges disappear and set you free. He, in turn, told me that I had no leg to stand on. Because if I didn’t quit soccer and come work for him, you’d go to juvie and he’d make sure that you stayed buried in there. So he doesn’t care about you or your little family. All he cares about is me. His rebellious, disobedient son who fucking hates him. Controlling me, making me his bitch, making me do things that I don’t want to do. It’s fun for him. Do you understand that? It’s fun for him to toy with people. He’s done it all his life. Me, my sister, my mother. In business. So he was toying with you to get to me.”