Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
So who the fuck tackled him?
My lungs burn. I feel like I can’t get enough oxygen into my body, and I taste blood even though I wasn’t hit.
But once I’m watching long enough I see a glimpse of light hair.
Blond hair.
I furrow my brow.
Torin is the one punching out my attacker, like an uncaged animal.
“What the fuck?” I whisper out loud. “Torin? What the fuck are you doing here—”
“Run, goddamnit,” he says to me. “Keep running. There are still other guys in that SUV that could come kill you in a fucking second.”
I don’t listen.
My feet are taking me back toward Torin and the other guy, even though I know I’m a fool for doing it.
The first thing I see when I get closer is blood.
Too much blood.
Torin knocked my attacker cold and there’s blood coming from his nose, trickling down his lips and cheeks. The back of Torin’s right hand is covered in deep red, too.
My limbs go weak for a moment, like I’ve been sapped of my ability to stand.
What the fuck?
This cannot be real. It can’t be.
“He’s… he’s not dead, is he, Torin?”
“He should be,” Torin roars, staring down at the guy with rage in his eyes.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“No, he isn’t dead. But we will be if we don’t leave right now.”
Torin grabs the guy’s gun and empties the bullets from it, then shoves the bullets in his own pocket. He wipes the back of his hand on the guy’s shirt, removing most of the blood.
He stands up, training his eyes on me as he walks over.
I’ve never seen Torin like this before. His biceps are straining under his black T-shirt and his hair is windswept to one side like he’s in a goddamn movie. I knew that he was physically strong, but this is something different entirely.
“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, running my fingers through my hair.
“Can you still run?” Torin asks me, raising his brows.
“I don’t know. Shit, I can try.”
“Then fucking run with me. Now.”
He gives me a shove from behind and finally enough adrenaline hits my blood again. My legs spring into action and I take off like I’m being hunted, and Torin stays right behind me.
I’ve never been more grateful for the familiar stone-faced buildings of campus. I run with Torin up the pathway that leads back upward. We cut over toward the main quad, and finally the path opens up into a path where I finally see some other people.
There’s a couple walking hand-in-hand outside of the Fine Arts building.
There’s also a night security guard on the opposite end, leisurely making his rounds as he stares down at his phone in his hand.
“That guy’s playing fucking Candy Crush while I almost died,” I utter. “That security guard should be fired. There’s no way he didn’t hear those gunshots from here.”
“For all you know, that security guard is already paid off by those guys in the SUV,” Torin says in a low voice.
“What?”
“Or worse, he might belong to them.”
“Torin, you’re scaring me. I don’t think this shit goes that deep. No shot, right?”
“I’m not the one who’s buddied up to Roman. You tell me.”
I glance at him. “How did you know this has to do with Roman?”
Torin doesn’t respond, but his expression tells me exactly what his response would be: do you think I’m fucking stupid?
He’s more serious now than I’ve ever seen him. Even when he cuts a glare at me he still doesn’t try to tease me like usual, and there’s no hint of levity in his expression.
We run the rest of the way back to Red Row in silence.
I’m gasping for air, but Torin runs like a machine, barely struggling.
With every footfall I don’t know if I’m feeling better or worse.
It’s all starting to catch up with me.
Never witnessed anything like that.
So much blood.
Once we get to the top of our street, Torin finally speaks again, and for once I’m grateful to hear the deep familiarity of his voice.
Anything to cut through my swirling thoughts.
“Stop.” He holds out his arm in front of my chest, looking forward onto the street.
“I just want to be home,” I protest.
“Need to see if there’s another guy waiting with a fucking gun outside your home, first,” Torin says. “Care to tell me who that was trying to kill you?”
I shake my head. “We just need to talk to Roman.”
“You were being taken to a black vehicle with a loaded gun pointed at you. So I’m going to need you to be honest with me right now, Noah.”
I pull in a heavy breath.
My thoughts are scattered and incoherent, and the way Torin is acting isn’t helping with any of it.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I mutter at him, feeling like my limbs might go woozy again.
He doesn’t back off even a little bit.
He reaches out a hand and I flinch, expecting the worst. Torin just knocked a guy fucking cold, and it looks like he’s about to do that to me, too.