Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
I’ve been strong. I’ve done what I needed to do like a good little princess. I’ve stood by every single person when they needed it. I’ve swallowed pain so that the people I love didn’t have to taste it.
I need to get out. If only for a little while.
I drag the zip up on my small suitcase and grab my charger and a hoodie, shoving it over my head. With fresh blood on the soles of my shoes, I kick them off quickly before reaching for a pair of thigh-high black boots.
Swiping the keys to my Hakosuka, I rush down the hall to the other side of Priest’s bedroom and all the way to the fire exit on this level.
It closes quietly with a click as I remain still. A black van pulls down the side of the Castle and toward the side entrance of the yard.
Maybe I should kill Katsia and leave them one more body to clean up on their way out.
Dashing down the stairs, I’m thankful I parked out the front as I throw my suitcase into the back seat and stare back up at my home with a swarm of mixed emotions stuck in my throat.
Just for a few days. I need a minute.
Even with the door handle in my grip, my chest tugs me back to the people inside. I don’t want to do this.
I shouldn’t do this.
I slam the door closed and fire the car to life. Shoving into first, I hit dial on Evie, and she picks up on the second ring. “Hey, girl. How was the dinner party? Anyone die?”
I almost laugh. “Well…” I direct the car out the gates and onto Elite Boulevard, before hitting the main road that leads to downtown Riverside.
“You okay?” she pipes up, and the noise in her background dies down. She must be watching reruns of The Vampire Diaries again.
My eyes fly to the rearview mirror. “Yes. No. Not really. Look, I’m going to be away for a while, and I need you to know that I’m okay.”
“Is this one of those things that you told me about? Because if it is, I thought we both agreed—Daddy Bishop too—that I get my own passport as well!” I can see her lip dropping from the other side of the phone.
“It’s not that.”
Silence. “Shit, Hales. Are you running from your family?”
My heart skips in my chest as the realization of what I’ve just done hits me. I should pull this brake up and spin around. “Shit. I am not my mother.”
Evie doesn’t attempt to hide how funny she thinks that is. “Uh, no. I don’t believe you are. Why? What’s Mama Mad got to do with this?” I hear a fridge open and close in the background.
“Nothing. Old joke. Keep talking to me, please.” I pull to the side of the road, just before the withering Leaving Riverside sign.
My car idles beneath my ass.
“Okay. So. Get this, I was waiting for your text back tonight when that guy I was telling you about sent me a Snapchat.” She bites into food and it’s probably something her mom cooked the night before. Lucky bitch. Miranda is a professional cook and has a famous TV series for it on Netflix. She’s kind of a big deal.
“What was the Snapchat and what are you eating?” I can feel my muscles relax and my heart rate mellow.
“His dick! He sent me a photo of his dick!” That does it. I burst out laughing and I can’t stop. My stomach aches and tears roll down my cheeks, only this time it’s for something other than shame and disgrace. “And I’m eating coconut shrimp!”
My nose wrinkles. “Okay, you lost me.”
I rest my head against my window. “I love you, Ev. Thank you for always being my rock.” I don’t even have the heart to tell her about the real reason I ran tonight. The thing that triggered it.
“Aw. Come over and stay with me. We can perve on Damon all night.”
“You mean Ripper Stefan.”
“No. I’m pretty sure I mean Damon.”
“Kai?” My brow curves with hope.
“Halen V’cent Hayes…” She pronounces V’cent correct. V’cen-tay.
“All right, all right, we both know Klaus is the real MV—" I yelp when a van pulls up beside my car. The side door opens and my heart is back to its rapid beats against my rib cage.
I pump the clutch and try to shift into first.
“What just happened?” Evie yells through the phone.
I let the gear slide out when reality crashes into me. They’ll never stop.
Squeezing my eyes closed, my fingers find the buckle as I slowly unclick my seat belt. “Evie,” I whisper, reaching beneath my chair, shoving my 21A Bobcat into the inside of my boot. “I need you to call the number that I have saved in your phone as ‘Shit I forgot’ and tell him that they have me.”