Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
He put her life in jeopardy. I hate him for that more than anything else.
A: I think I might still want to try to go to school for it. Med school, I mean. I don’t know how I’d make it happen, though. My life hasn’t gone in the straight line med schools tend to favor, you know?
Me: If it’s what you want, we’ll make it work.
I won’t go so far as to make promises until I’m sure, but it seems I could help her make that happen. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice her dreams because of her father’s reckless decisions.
Darkness falls, almost surprising me. It’s too easy to become absorbed in our conversations. Time ceases to mean anything.
A: I’ll go first.
By the time I glance away from her message, she’s already standing, picking up her backpack. I shouldn’t check out her ass, but I’m only human. There’s only so much I can do to control myself when she’s involved.
Before gathering my things and leaving the room, I wait for ten, maybe fifteen minutes. Even though I should go to the gym, it isn't the same as it used to be. I need the exercise, but the roiling, burning rage that once carried me through punishing workouts doesn’t exist anymore. I’m still on the lookout, still questioning the motives of nearly everyone around me, but the pain I wrestled with on first arriving here this year isn’t all-consuming anymore. I don’t need to work myself to the point of exhaustion to keep from killing anybody.
“Hey. Q.”
I lift my gaze, looking farther down the hall, and my heart sinks. Vito. It’s been weeks since that night, the attack, climbing through the vents. I hope he doesn’t think that made us friends.
Still, I lift my chin in greeting. Once we’re closer, I ask, “What’s going on?” Not exactly friendly, but not nasty either. I’m still not sure if he’s a friend or foe, and I would hate to alienate a potential ally.
The way his eyes sweep the hall tells me he has something of importance to share. He crooks a finger, leading me to a quiet alcove. I follow, my suspicions on high alert, ready to react to whatever this is about.
He doesn’t keep me waiting. “I wanted to give you a heads-up,” he murmurs.
“About what?”
One more look up and down the hall. “Nash.”
It’s a challenge remaining straight-faced. “What about him?” I ask as if the name means nothing.
He barely stops short of rolling his eyes. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? He thinks he knows something. I’m not going to ask you for details, so don’t worry about that.”
“I won’t.”
“But it seems he’s become obsessed with learning what happened to the Valentine family over the holidays.”
I blink. “What does that have to do with me?”
This time, he does roll his eyes. “Anyway, you might like to know he’s suspicious. Of her.” He never mentions her name, but there’s no need to. And he knows it, unfortunately.
“Why?”
“Of that, I am not so sure.” Either he is the world’s greatest actor, or he’s telling the truth. “He won’t say. I’ve asked him more than once, but he only gives me this strange smile and tells me I’ll see.”
I don’t know how much more of this I can take without exploding. Vito has never been my favorite person, but it would be a shame to take my sudden rage out on him when all he’s trying to do is help.
There’s one thing I need to know over anything else. “Why are you telling me this?”
He dips his chin, hitting me with a sour look. “You can drop the act with me. I’ve seen all I need to see of the two of you to know she’s more to you than a toy you can toss around. And she’s a nice girl, despite her pedigree.” That we can agree on.
So it’s not enough for Nash to keep his suspicions to himself. He’s going wide, dropping hints. How the fuck did he have that video in the first place? The burning need to go to him, to tear parts of his body free until he confesses is almost too much to resist.
But that would mean admitting I know about the video. That I, too, know about that night and about why the family died. I can’t implicate myself like that when it means the lives of those I love.
“Thank you.” I don’t dare say more, but he doesn’t seem to expect it. He only gives me a firm nod before walking away. I wait a moment or two before emerging back into the hall, my feet slapping against the floor with every purposeful step.
If he doesn’t quit this, I’m going to have to kill him, and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’ll enjoy it, but for now, a workout will have to be sufficient.