Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Just like it doesn’t matter how many times I tell myself that I warned her. That she brought it on herself. It doesn’t make a difference.
She wasn’t at school today. When I drove past her house and her car was gone, I figured she had to be here. It’s not enough to be this far from her, even if I can see her clearly as she straightens up one of the shelves after a group of kids leave. She uses her remote control to change what’s playing on the TV mounted near the ceiling across from the register, then settles back down.
If she has the first clue I’m out here, she hasn’t shown it. I doubt she could pretend for long. She would probably call the cops on me after yesterday, and I wouldn’t completely blame her if she did. I mean, there’s nothing they could charge me with, they couldn’t even make me leave, but I wouldn’t blame her for trying.
Did she drop out of school? Is that why she wasn’t there? Or did she need a day off? I hope for both our sakes she finally went through with it and gave up. There’s no way to win. And I really, truly don’t know if I could go through with another stunt like yesterday. I’m not sure I could live with myself.
It’s hard enough to do it now, living with the memory of those reddened, tear-filled eyes glaring up at me with all the hate in the world. More than pain, more than confusion and betrayal… It was hatred, and I deserved it. This would all be so much easier to live with if I didn’t.
After a while, she stocks a few shelves, handling more customers as they trickle in and out. Once everyone’s gone, she gathers the boxes, stacking them together, then takes them to the back of the store.
I can’t help it. I have to see her. I have to know why she didn’t go to school. If she finally wised up. Crossing the street, I take the alley running alongside the store that empties into an alley running along the back of the businesses lined up along the block. The dumpsters are back here, which is where Tamson is standing on tiptoe, tossing the boxes inside.
She’s so involved in what she’s doing, she doesn’t know I’m coming up behind her. This girl seriously needs to heighten her situational awareness.
It’s only when she slams the top of the dumpster and turns around that she realizes I’m here. With a hand over her chest, she gasps before recognition kicks in.
“You!” she snaps, going red. “Why is it always you?”
Fuck, she’s beautiful. Why does she have to be so beautiful? I could spend hours watching her, and I have, but it’s not enough. I only ever want more. “You didn’t come to school today.”
“Yeah, and now you came to rub it in, right?” She jerks her thumb toward the dumpster, smirking. “Are you going to throw me in here next? Might as well. Though what will your excuse be this time?”
“What do you mean?”
“Hello?” Tapping her knuckles against the side of her head, she screws her face up in disbelief. “Are you high? You got what you wanted. I dropped out. So now you don’t have any excuse to ruin my life. You’ve already done it.”
Success doesn’t feel very satisfying. “It was the right move,” I grunt, wrestling with the guilt. I did what needed to be done. It wasn’t my fault.
I don’t think she would understand even if I explained it. I don’t know if I could find the words. It would mean swallowing my pride, too, and I doubt I could do that without choking.
“I’m glad you think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back inside.” A bitter snarl twists her mouth as she storms past me… or tries to.
She doesn’t make it before I take hold of her shoulders. “What are you doing?” she barks when I back her against the wall next to the door, pressing her against the brick.
Instead of telling her, I show her, lowering my head to cover her mouth with mine. She tastes just like I remember. Sweetness, freshness. So totally unlike anything I ever experienced before she shattered my world.
It would all be so much better if she would kiss me back.
Her little hands slap weakly at my chest, and she does her best to get me off her. Instead of soft, pleasured sighs, there’s nothing but angry grunts as she fights me. No matter what I do—tilting my head to deepen the kiss, forcing my tongue between her lips—she doesn’t respond like I need her to.
I am that disgusting to her. She hates me that much.
“Fuck you,” she grits out when I let her up for air. Shoving at my chest, she growls, “Get off me now. I have to go back in. The door is unlocked.”