Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
“I don’t know anymore. Every time I think I’ve got a handle on the situation, it gets worse. Everyone I know and care about is under attack.” Just like I predicted.
“Nobody said it would be easy, babe, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less important to the world.”
“All I see are a bunch of people online, fangirling over our kiss.”
“You need to take a better look.”
Luna
What’s with this guy? I mean, there’s being humble, and then there’s being blind. Does Huff really not have a clue what he’s started here? He’s become a damned movement. #JustLove #MrLoveJusticeJunkies #MrLoveDateMePlease #IwanttolickLove #UltraMegaLoveForever.
People are sick of the corruption and powermongers, and the fact that Huff would expose his brother’s disgusting behavior speaks to his braveness.
Huff will never know a moment’s peace for as long as he lives, and the fact that he’s fighting to stay alive while also keeping himself out of the hands of the warmongering establishment? It’s inspiring. He’s fighting for all of us, and in today’s world, it’s beginning to feel like a rarity.
Add to all that his corny name and smokin’-hot body? Seriously. Has he taken a look in the mirror lately? The kissable lips are the only thing soft about him. He’s ripped from his chiseled jawline and handsome face down to his toes. It’s not a surprise that the world is putting its full weight behind love. Just Mr. Love.
I can literally see this scandal—which exposed his brother’s unconscionable actions, allowing millions of people to believe they were poisoned—turning Huff into something so much more. Not a movement, but a revolution. Against tyranny and hate. Against overreaching governments. Against anyone striving to rob the masses of peace of mind and freedom. Because, at the end of the day, that’s what this thing is all about.
The government wants Huff so they can make more. Men obedient to them. Think of the consequences. At first they’ll say it’s justified to protect our national interests. But when other nations are subjected to our army of Huffs, which will no doubt include spies, saboteurs, and agents, they won’t be happy or feel secure.
At home, anyone who questions if this is the right move for humanity will be crushed. Fear will become our new religion, and there’ll be no one to stop them. Because no one can stop someone like Huff from coming into their home in the middle of the night and taking them away for one wrong word. Or taking their children because of their “wrongthink.” We’d be living in constant fear.
Until one day…some other country figures out how Huff was made. Then it’ll be our country dealing with the repercussions of revenge. More fear.
The point is, Huff has become a symbol. Not of the doom to come, but of hope, of standing up to the doom. Because he’s on our side, and that makes us feel invincible. He is the people’s superweapon.
“Huff,” I say, “I’m not here to be your shrink, kiss your ass, or inflate your ego. You gotta figure out what your place is and what it means to you. But I’m telling you right now that you’ve created a ripple that’s turned into a wave, and that wave is about to change everything. You can’t stop now.”
“Thank you,” he says dryly. “I absolutely called so I could feel the weight of humanity on my shoulders.”
“Oh, grow up. This is bigger than you, so you’re just going to have to grow a pair and cope.”
“And again, I thank you for the talk. This is 1-800-shit-on-my-life, right?”
“Okay. Sorry. Why did you call?”
“If they’re listening, we should talk in person.”
I look down at my pink flamingo jammies. I just got ready for bed, but what the hell? He’s seen me in worse outfits. I literally dressed in a trash bag the other night when we got hammered. I told him I was going to talk to the monster (barf) and needed protection because I drank too much. He laughed hysterically and took off his shirt and tie to join me with his own Hefty.
“Kitchen,” I say, so he knows where to find me.
Suddenly, Huff is standing next to my refrigerator, looking, well, hot as usual in jeans and a white T-shirt that stretches over his broad chest. He looks a little red up top. His face resembles an apple.
Before I can ask what happened, he’s got me scooped up into his arms. Suddenly, we’re standing on a beach lit up with tiki torches in front of a beautiful two-story cabin.
“Holy crap. That was incredible,” I say, my heart beating with adrenaline.
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Thought we’d be better off talking here.”
“What’s going on?”
“Kyle put River in a psychiatric hospital. It’s a trap, and there’s no way I can get to her. There’re agents everywhere, and I’m guessing they’re armed to the teeth.”