Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 181613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 908(@200wpm)___ 726(@250wpm)___ 605(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 181613 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 908(@200wpm)___ 726(@250wpm)___ 605(@300wpm)
Fuck. That’s it. That’s what I’m looking for.
I wink. “Atta girl. Now let’s finish our coffee before it gets cold.”
CHAPTER 6
Levi
Months later
Thirty yards.
Taking another drag, I lean sideways against the wall beside the giant doors to the school to have a better look at her.
Thirty fucking yards. That’s how close I can afford to get to her in public without sheer and utter destruction.
I take another drag.
A guy with eerily white hair walks up to her near the door to one of her classes, and the way she smiles at him makes my lip twitch.
But it’s her hand interlocked with his that makes the cigarette drop from my lips.
Who the hell is he?
And why does he have his fingers entwined with hers?
My fist balls as my feet instinctively begin to move, but a hand on my shoulder stops me.
“Watch yourself, bro.” Apollo smirks. “Don’t want you to lose an eye like your dad did.”
I jerk free of his grip. “Leave me the fuck alone.”
“I’m not gonna stop you. I’m just warning you.” He shrugs. “Don’t go near her. That’s just my advice.”
“Whatever.” I turn around and walk in the other direction just so I don’t have to look at them holding hands, frolicking through the hallways like they’re deeply in love.
Bullshit.
I’ve never seen that fucker before, which means she must’ve met him in the previous month.
How is she this close with someone else already?
“Let it go, let it goooooo,” Apollo begins to chant next to me, throwing a ball up and down.
“I swear to God, if you don’t shut up, I’m gonna punch you in the face with that ball.”
“Now that’s a challenge, accepted.” He chucks the ball at me and I catch it midair while it was on its way to my head.
He takes a few large steps back. “Go on, then.”
I take in a deep breath, spread my feet apart, and I catapult the ball back to him, letting out all my rage in this one throw. Yet he still catches it with ease.
He grins and holds up his hand. “Good shot. Left a nice mark, though.” He winks. “Wanna train together?”
I roll my eyes. “Again?”
“Best way to let off some steam,” he muses.
I grumble to myself.
He throws his arm over my shoulder. “You’re gonna need all the strength to beat the fuckers who’ll inevitably come for you any day now.”
I stop in my tracks and stare at him, but the dead-serious look on his face tells me enough. He’s thinking the same thing.
“You know that family will never settle until they have their revenge on the infamous Levi Torres.” He pushes the ball into my hands. “So what better way to prepare than with the best trainer you could ever find?” He slaps me on the back and turns around. “Let’s get to work.”
Aspen
Hours later
In class, I can’t even focus on the words the teacher says.
All I can think of is Levi fucking Torres, sitting there in front of class, hiding in that black hoodie with that aloof posture and legs spread like he owns the place.
He hasn’t said a word since we last spoke, hasn’t even looked at me. As a matter of fact, I don’t think he’s even gotten anywhere in my vicinity.
It’s as if I’ve suddenly ceased to exist.
We used to be friends, and he burned it all to the ground just like that.
I flip the pencil in my hand back and forth as though it’s my last lifeline to a sane mind.
Should I just chuck it at his neck?
Make him bleed the way he made her bleed?
But you saw how shocked he was when she died.
I pause as the memory of her splattered all over the rocks passes through my mind again, and that boy who kept backing up from the scene of the crime.
That boy's face was riddled with disbelief until the darkness took over.
It doesn’t matter. She’s dead because of him.
My nostrils flare as I flip my pencil back and forth again to try to keep my cool while the teacher rambles on and on about stuff I don’t care about.
He told you who he was. He said it out loud. He’s a killer.
Suddenly, Levi turns around in his seat, staring right back at me with those deep brown eyes, and it catches me off guard so much I abruptly stop flipping the pencil and drop it.
I swiftly duck to grab it, but I can’t help but stare at him, wondering if he saw.
If he noticed the slow, simmering hatred.
The unraveling of me.
I swallow away the lump in my throat as I come back up and tuck the pencil into my pocket.
He’s no longer looking at me, and for some reason, I’m relieved.
Every time those eyes connect with mine, I freeze over entirely, and I’m not sure whether it’s because my mind knows he’s a murderer, or if it’s because my heart hasn’t gotten the memo yet that we’re supposed to hate him now.