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)
For now, I’ll stand back and watch. It could be interesting, witnessing her trying and failing to make any difference in the way things are for her now. As if anybody around here is going to let her have her way, no matter what it is. Not with her reputation, and definitely not with me standing here, arms folded, keeping an eye on her.
The woman behind the desk glances my way before she clears her throat and looks at Wren. “What can I do for you?” she asks.
“I was… I was hoping…” Finally, Wren can’t ignore me anymore, throwing me a look over her shoulder like she doesn’t want to talk with me behind her. Too fucking bad. When I arch an eyebrow, her head snaps back around.
“Please, I’m busy here. What do you need?” the woman asks.
Wren takes a deep breath before blurting it out. “Is there any way I could rent a dorm room? I mean, how much would that cost?”
Weird request. I know she doesn’t live with her whore mother—I did my homework a while back. I sort of let things slip, though, and didn’t track Wren to whatever place she calls home. It’s something I’ve been meaning to do but haven’t had the chance yet. I only know where she doesn’t live.
The woman shakes her head. “There aren’t any rooms open right now.”
Wren’s shoulders go up and it looks like her body is vibrating. “Are you sure? Can you check?”
“We don’t leave empty dorm rooms sitting around. Usually, we end up having to turn people down if they take too long to fill out their paperwork. There’s not some endless supply.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Wren’s head hangs low when she turns away from the desk. Instead of doubling back and passing me, she walks to the other end of the room and leaves through that door. So now she thinks she’s slick.
All she’s doing is pissing me off. Obviously, the girl is either too stupid or too stubborn to know I’m not fucking around. I follow her out to the hall, then outside, with a million questions banging around in my head. Why would she decide after classes have already started that she wants to live in a dorm room? I guess she doesn’t know any better—it’s pretty obvious you don’t decide out of nowhere to rent a room like it’s a hotel. I doubt her whore of a mother would teach her about shit like that.
“What happened?” I ask as we cross the quad. “Did the shack you were living in burn down or something? Maybe the homeless shelter ran out of beds? Do you think you can just walk into the admin office and rent a room?”
“Please, stop.” I can barely hear her, she’s whispering so softly. “Stop yelling about stuff you don’t understand.”
“Make me understand. I’m curious. What makes you think anybody around here would share a room with you, anyway? Do you know how much money the school would have to spend on disinfectant to clean it up after you left? They probably couldn’t afford it.”
I’ve had enough of her bullshit. Acting like she has the right to ignore me. “Little bird, I’m talking to you.” All it takes is a hand on her shoulder to stop her and turn her around. When she tries to break away, I grab a hold of her arm to pull her in close. It’s time to remind her who she’s fucking with.
“Ow!” She hisses and flinches and squeezes her eyes shut, all because I touched her arm.
“Since when are you such a fucking baby?” Except when I grabbed her, I pushed her sleeve up a little, and now the dark purple bruises are clear.
Something strange happens to me. Something I sure as hell couldn’t have predicted. The sight of those bruises on her thin arm turns my stomach. Suddenly, I’m hot inside, boiling hot, ready to tear somebody’s fucking head off. “What happened to you?” I growl, staring down at that ugly purple stain on her creamy skin.
“Could you please let me go? It hurts.” I hear the pain in her voice, and it would normally make me happy. I would consider it a good day if I could make her sound like that.
But I’m not the one making her sound like that. Somebody else decided to take the pleasure away from me. I need to know who it was.
I loosen my grip but don’t let go, since I know she’ll just try to run away if I do. “Who did it?” I ask again.
“Nobody.” Her long hair falls across her face when she hangs her head. “I just fell.”
My ass. “You just fell?”
“That’s what I said. I fell.”
“Where did you fall?”
“I don’t even remember.” She’s breathing pretty fucking fast for somebody who doesn’t remember, and she sounds upset in a way even I can’t normally make her sound. Like she’s really, deeply afraid.