Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
As requested, she sits down next to me, placing her lonely water bottle on the table in front of her. She crosses her arms and leans back in her seat, looking at something on the other side of the cafeteria.
Happy with her anguish, I take my silverware and start eating my lasagna. As I eat, Wren sits next to me sulking. I smile as I finish my meal quickly. Once I’m done with my pasta dish, I take the apple off my tray and bring it to my mouth. “Little bird.” I get Wren’s attention.
She glances over at me just as I open my mouth to stick my tongue out. I give the side of the apple a good lick before setting it in front of her. “You must be hungry and since I’m not a complete asshole,” I lie, “I’ll let you have my apple.”
“No thanks,” she says sarcastically.
“I insist,” I reply.
She goes back to looking at a random spot across the room, and excitement fills my veins.
“Last chance to eat the apple the easy way,” I warn before I start counting down. “One… trust me, the easy way will be better.”
She shakes her head at me.
“Two… are you sure you want me to get to three?”
I see the exact moment her patience snaps, and her annoyance overrides her fear. Her shoulders rise as she slightly pushes herself off the chair. Her chest puffs and her cheeks turn a hue of red. “I don’t want your stupid fucking apple,” she yells into my face. Her anger overpowers her, bringing out the fighter in her. The one I need to crush.
I don’t think, I react. I pull my knife from my boot and bring it up to her throat in a split second.
She gasps. “Are you crazy?” She looks genuinely in shock, her eyes are impossibly wide, and her lips slightly part with a quick intake of air. The blade rests against her neck, not flush enough to break the skin but close enough to have the skin slightly indented.
“Don’t ever talk to me like that again and don’t ever disobey me. If I tell you to eat the fucking apple, you pick it up and take a big bite for me. Do you understand?”
She remains completely still, her body frozen with fear while her eyes roam around the room. I follow her gaze and find multiple people have stopped what they are doing to stare at us. Everyone is looking, but not a single person makes a move to intervene, and I already know no one will.
My cock pushes against my zipper, begging to be freed. Her being scared is such a fucking turn on. I can feel precum soaking my boxers.
“No one gives a shit about you, bird. No one is going to help you. No one is going to dare go against me. Now sit like a good girl and eat the fucking apple,” I order.
She gives me the tiniest nod; her face still fear-stricken as I slowly remove the knife from her throat. She breathes a sigh of relief, and her shoulders sag in defeat as she reaches for the apple with a trembling hand. Her shaking fingers wrap around the fruit, and she brings it to her mouth to take a bite.
“Good girl,” I praise while I slide my knife back into my boot.
“You’re insane,” she mumbles in between bites. I watch her chew the apple.
“I know, and you would do well to remember that,” I say, enjoying the power I hold over her. A power I intend to abuse over and over again.
7
WREN
“We’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” Maya is a lot more confident than I am. She jumps out of her car and reaches into the backseat to pull out a bucket full of all kinds of things we found online when we searched how to get spray paint off a car without damaging the finish too much. And there I was, already worrying because the car was old and falling apart. I didn’t know it could get worse. Shouldn’t I know by now that things can always get worse?
Finding Maya obviously was meant to be. She doesn’t owe me anything, but as soon as she saw the paint job somebody gave my car, she came up with a plan and put it in motion. She empties everything out of the bucket, then pours in two of the bottles of water we bought. As I watch, she adds soap and drops two sponges inside.
“What happens if it doesn’t work?” I’m not even really talking to her. With all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, it’s like my skull is going to crack if I don’t let some of it out.
She scoffs at the question. “It’ll work.” I want to believe her as we get started soaping up the red S.