Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Great. This is what I need now. To be followed out here by these two assholes. Jackson and Dave come straight at me, because why make it a fair fight?
“I didn’t start any shit with you,” I remind Dave, who just sat there silently before. “So don’t fucking start with me.”
With a sneer, he replies, “You started shit with my friend, and you’re the one who sent those fucking pictures around, man.”
“I took them,” I correct him. “I didn’t send them.”
“Oh, is that what you need to tell yourself so you don’t feel like a slimy fucking prick?” Jackson demands. Now that we’re out of the classroom, he’s found his balls, placing both hands against my chest and shoving me against the wall at my back. “Don’t waste your time. Everybody knows what you did, and everybody knows you’re acting like it wasn’t your fault. Fucking hypocrite.”
Something inside me is going to explode any second. “Just get out of my face,” I warn, breathing heavy, looking back-and-forth between them while people passing through start to pay attention. “I mean it. Walk away.”
“Or what?” Jackson sneers before lunging at me.
Nobody can say I didn’t try to stop this.
“Fucker!” That’s all Jackson gets out before he collides with me, swinging for my jaw. I move in time for his punch to glance off me, and it throws him off balance. All it takes is my fist against his stomach for him to double over, gasping for air before dropping to his knees.
Dave’s face is red by the time he steps in and takes me by my collar before I can react. The world goes bright white when he makes contact with my cheek. It feels like my face is on fire when I double over, then drive my body against his, slamming him against the opposite wall and knocking the breath out of him. He’s gasping when I do what he did to me, taking a fistful of his T-shirt and hammering him with one punch after another.
“Lay off!” Jackson bellows in my ear, and all that gets him is a sharp, upward strike to his face from my elbow. He falls back so I can continue painting Dave’s face red. He’s barely conscious and slumped against the wall by the time I finish, and I let him drop before turning back to Jackson.
“Bet you wish you hadn’t started shit now,” I mutter, smiling at the sight of blood coating my right fist. “You want some more?”
I don’t give him a chance to answer, taking him by the shoulders with both hands and bending him forward so my knee can make contact with his nose. It feels too fucking good. I can’t stop. Now there are shouts around us, people telling me to stop, but what the fuck do they know?
“Enough!” I barely hear the voice bellowing close to my ear before something stops my fist from cutting through the air again. Another hand is wrapped around it.
A hand belonging to Richard Kingsley.
Fuck my life.
There’s shock in his eyes, maybe even horror. “Carter! What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He looks back to where Dave is on the floor, and I follow the direction of his gaze. Am I supposed to be sorry the fucker is lying there, his face covered in blood? He has a hand pressed to his jaw, and he’s sobbing like the pussy he is. Richard goes to him, crouches beside him, barking for someone to call an ambulance. For fuck’s sake. I barely did anything to him.
At least, that’s what I think before Richard joins me. “It looks like his jaw is broken,” he announces in a soft but deadly voice. “My office, if you know what’s good for you.”
Now that the white-hot rage is starting to fade, I see what I did. More importantly, I see what it could mean for me. There’s the sound of soft weeping from some of the girls gathered around as Richard steers me through the crowd, his hand now wrapped around the back of my neck.
“I cannot believe what I just witnessed,” he mutters as we walk.
“I can explain—”
“Save it until we’re alone. What the hell do you think your father is going to think about this when he finds out?”
All of a sudden, my insides go icy. What’s Dad going to think? I don’t have to imagine it. Might as well kiss my ass goodbye, along with my truck, my phone, my freedom.
“You realize if his parents decide to press charges, this is going to get much worse. I might have to expel you,” Richard whispers as we make our way down the hall toward his office. “I won’t have a choice in the matter. How could you do anything that stupid?”
I wish I knew. Like he said, I can’t really talk about it out here, so I keep my thoughts to myself as we walk past his assistant’s desk. He only lets go of me once we are alone in his office with the door closed.