Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“Is it safe to land?”
“Safe? Yes.” He slanted his head, shaking it a bit. “Comfortable? No.”
“Let’s do it.”
At least driving would guarantee I’d arrive before the event ended. I couldn’t take the risk of not making it at all.
The co-pilot still loitered.
“Why are you still here?” I arched a brow. “You have a plane to fly.”
Not well, apparently, because minutes later, it plummeted headfirst.
I swung forward, grunting as my stomach dug into the desk.
The flight attendant rushed to my side and double-checked my seatbelt, yanking hard on the loop. Another violent shake sent her flying into the chair across from me.
She dragged herself into a sitting position, fighting every cruel jolt.
“Keep your seatbelt on, Mr. Sun.”
No shit.
I flipped the window up, staring into the abyss. White confetti swept by in a blizzard of alabaster and gray.
Midway into our descent, the snow transformed into rain. Heavy drops smashed against the glass.
“Is it always like this?” The stewardess white-knuckled her armrest, dropping her head back. “I’m only three months into this job. This is my first storm.”
I ignored her, fighting to keep upright as the plane tossed us round and round like a blender. The co-pilot’s tablet tumbled from the table to the carpet, triggering its playlist. “I Want to Hold Your Hand” by The Beatles.
A vicious lurch slammed my head into the wall. The song switched. “Bookends” by Simon & Garfunkel.
The same song playing when Dad died.
Suddenly, I couldn’t hear my own thoughts.
Cars honking.
Rain pouring.
The sword and octopus on the window.
Another sharp jounce.
The pendant.
I flew up in my seat, landing back down with a thump.
Souls are priceless, Zach. Try to protect yours any way you can.
I tucked my chin into my chest, battling the turbulence. “I’m trying, Dad.”
One day, you’ll learn to appreciate beautiful things.
“I did, Dad. Her name is Farrow.”
More honks.
Star-crossed lovers.
A horn.
I’d finally learned to appreciate beautiful things, and I would die in the air before I ever got to see her again.
Dad’s wide eyes.
His torso colliding with mine.
Drip, drip, drip.
The plane dropped quick, slicing through rain.
You’re okay, Zachary. You’re fine.
“I’m not, Dad.” I dug my fingers into the handles, almost tearing them off with my nails. “We’re dropping too fast.”
The rake.
The blood.
The knife.
I didn’t want to remember any of this.
Dad’s lips moving.
His single tear.
His last words.
We slammed into the runway with a huge thunk. My hand flew off the rest, smacking into the window.
Rain shot from the sky like bullets. The plane slowed to a crawl, but I lowered my head to my knees, brows crushed together.
His last words, his last words, his last words.
“What are you saying, dammit?”
The flight attendant unbuckled, sprinting to me. She rested a hand on my back. “Are you okay, Mr. Sun?”
“No.”
I finally remembered Dad’s last words.
D-DAY.
Nature: 3.
Zach Sun: 0.
It took five hours to reach the sporting arena. Five hours in a shitty rental car held together by Gorilla Glue and prayers.
I hadn’t showered or changed in three days, forgetting my luggage in Chiang Mai. It seemed particularly cruel that, for someone who forbade staff from wearing scented products, I had to suffer through five fucking hours of my own stench.
In the last thirty-minute stretch, the heater died a cruel death. The temperature plummeted to forty degrees within minutes. I still hadn’t found a damn coat.
I slugged through rain, knuckles the color of milk, hoping to hell I’d make it before the competition ended.
The arena sign glistened in the downpour like a beacon. Thousands of cars filled the lot from end to end.
With no chance at finding a spot, I parked in a tow zone right out front, slamming the door behind me.
“She better be here.”
It would be just my luck to be misdirected by a horrible game of telephone. I’d gotten Fae’s location from Romeo, who had gotten her location from Dallas, who had gotten her location from Hettie, who had gotten her location from Frankie, whom I considered as reliable as the pull-out method.
I shoved my entire wallet into the ticket booth and stormed past the barrier without waiting. The contents of my inner suit pocket smacked my chest with each step.
My right loafer fell off as I tore through the halls like a bull. I didn’t have time to pick it up.
A child darted out of my path. He dropped his cotton candy, crying at the sight of me.
I could only assume how I looked. Cheeks flushed pink from being frozen just shy of frostbite. Lips set in a firm line. Hair dancing with the wind.
Truly, Farrow had chosen the worst season to cure me.
So fucking cold.
The corridor bled into the arena, where thousands of people cheered from stadium seats. I would never find her in this crowd.
“Attention: the final match begins in three minutes.”
The words echoed from speakers in every corner. It came from a booth at the edge of the bleachers.