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)
Cate whips backward, grabbed by the hair, and Aracely is there, slapping Emaline to the ground.
I breathe a sigh of relief, dropping my head back to the ground, and for a moment, all the pain is gone. God, yes. I don’t think I’m going to be able to take more.
Yelps and growls go off around me, and I don’t even look to know Aracely doesn’t need any help. None what … so … ever.
Using every muscle I can muster, I roll onto my stomach and start to pry myself off the ground.
“We could have you arrested!” Cate screams, blood dripping from her nose.
But Aracely just flashes her white teeth, gesturing to the live cam on top of the visitor’s center. “And you’d even be able to prove it.”
They see the camera, which would’ve caught Aracely beating them up, but it also would’ve caught them jumping me. Milo jumping me.
Emaline stares at the cam, frozen. “Shit.”
I chuckle, wiping the blood under my nose. They’ll get the town’s recording deleted, for sure. They’re connected like that. But it’s live. Not that many people will be watching, but a few will be, and at least one will be recording. They leave in a hurry, turning and disappearing back to the festival.
“Thanks,” I breathe out to Aracely.
She studies me. “Why didn’t you fight back?”
I pull down my sleeve, using it to dab at my cheekbone and mouth. “I’m a Saint, Aracely. The only way to beat us is to keep getting up.”
A smile peeks out, but she covers it by rolling her eyes. It was four against one. How else did she think I was going to win?
“Why’d you help me?” I ask her.
I would think she’d enjoy letting me get my ass kicked.
“Well …” She shrugs. “I did watch for a little while.”
I snort. I’m sure.
I’m not mad, though.
“But then you just kept rising back up like some kind of hero,” she goes on. “You cunty little bitch.”
I laugh as she brushes the grass and dirt off my knees, and I’m about to invite her back to my house for some margaritas, but I don’t feel so good. Everything sways in my vision, and I faintly hear a shout. “What the hell?”
I look behind Aracely, seeing Trace rushing over. Army follows. I meet Aracely’s eyes. “Don’t tell them. Please. You know what’ll happen.”
This isn’t about me. Milo’s baiting them, and if they’re going to risk themselves, it won’t be for this.
“Oh my God, are you okay?” Clay runs over.
Everyone crowds around, but my forehead feels like it’s on fire, and I need to get my sweatshirt off. I’m burning up all of a sudden. “I’m fine, I just … I …”
The world swirls around me, and I let my mouth fall open, feeling sick. I’m going to throw up.
“Krisjen,” I hear Army say. I think he touches me.
“Who the fuck did this to you?” Dallas charges.
My knees start to give out. “I don’t feel so good.” I drop. “I need to sit—”
Someone’s arms scoop me up before I hit the ground, and I let my head fall into him as I close my eyes.
“Go get her brother and sister at the bounce house.” Macon’s voice vibrates against my ear.
“What?”
“Now!” he shouts at someone.
Sweat covers my forehead, my stomach roiling as I let him carry me away.
“Aracely, who did this?” Liv asks as we leave.
“I didn’t see.”
Thatta girl.
No more Jaegers in jail.
A half hour later, I’m sitting on the sink in Macon’s bathroom, sucking on a fruit punch Capri-Sun. He said I needed something cold in my stomach.
My legs dangle over the side as he dabs a pad with some saline solution on the corner of my lip and cleans up my nose. The guys and kids are making a ruckus downstairs, and I can’t tell who’s being louder.
“So did you have fun?” I ask, swinging my legs as I look up at him.
He holds my face, dabbing ointment on the cut on my cheek. “You got the shit kicked out of you, and you’re smiling?”
“I’m still breathing.”
He meets my eyes, looking unamused before returning his attention to my face.
I can’t explain it. I’m injured, but I’m not in pain. All I can feel right now are his hands.
“You still feel nauseous?” he asks me.
I shake my head, drinking the rest of the juice.
“Who was it?” he demands.
I drop the juice pouch in the garbage can. “Just some girls.
Aracely and I took care of it.” And then I add, “Mostly Aracely.”
“Krisjen …”
“Did you have fun?” I press again and try to get him to look at me. “It was pretty amazing to see you stand up to Jerome. I don’t usually get to see you in action. I liked it.”
He goes still, breathing a little harder.
“Is he an old rival?” I say in a quiet voice.