Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
I mean, it’s not like she chose to die. Yes, she made the decision, but suicide is complicated. For instance, it’s not that I wanted to die on her anniversary, but I could’ve.
Anyway, all of this to say, I don’t blame her. I just miss her, and I want to know why she left me.
Yesterday was the first time I thought maybe I should try to stitch up the old wound.
And no, those thoughts are totally not because of a certain leather-clad guy who pulled me out of the cliff’s fangs.
“What about Osborn?”
I lift my head toward Kane, my chest kind of doing this ridiculous thud, thud, thud thing that I need pills for stat. I already have a dozen of those, what’s one more?
“What about him?” I say nonchalantly.
“He was there,” Jude says. “There’s even a rumor on campus that he caused the explosion and nearly killed you. Some say he was watching the whole show with popcorn.”
“Did you see popcorn anywhere, big man? Because if there was and I missed out, I’ll be really pissed.”
“Point is,” Kane says. “How did he figure out you could be in danger, then proceed to text me?”
I tilt my head in his direction. So he’s been talking to Kane while blocking me?
The fucking audacity.
“Why do you have each other’s numbers?” I ask.
“We don’t. He has mine for some reason. And you’re not changing the subject, Pres. Why was Osborn there?”
I shrug. “Ask him. Shouldn’t be hard since you’re besties who are on a texting basis.”
Salty, extra sodium. Yup, that’s me.
“Did he try to blow up your car while you were in it?” Jude stands taller. “Because I don’t give a fuck what our dads say or that he’s an Osborn. I will hunt him down and kill him.”
“Bitch, please.” I pretend to yawn. “You think a nobody like Osborn can hurt me? I’m so offended right now. That’s, like, a total David and Gorilla thing.”
“Goliath,” Jude deadpans.
“They’re both big. Shut up.”
Kane’s eyes narrow the slightest. “You’re meaning to tell me that Osborn just happened to pass by?”
“How would I know? I was having the best time of my life being high and shit.” I study him again, because, yes, I’m still annoyed Marcus got in touch. He can’t be thinking about seducing him, too, right? I’ll bury him alive.
“What did he say when he texted you?”
“Something like, ‘Do you have any idea what Armstrong is doing right now on the top of a fucking cliff while he’s high?’ Considering I was out of the state at the time, naturally, I had no clue.”
“Chasing Denise.”
“Dahlia. And yes, I was far away, so I called Jude as I hit the road.”
“Making a volcano out of a mole.”
“Mountain out of a molehill,” Jude says.
“I meant it the other way. Keep up, big man.”
“I still don’t understand the Osborn angle.” Kane frowns. “It just doesn’t make any sense.”
Me neither.
How the hell did he get Kane’s number so fast, then still come for me?
I thought he hated me.
Or was done with me or what the fuck ever.
He certainly blocked me all the way to hell before that.
It was the bike, wasn’t it? He was dazzled by my riches like all of them.
And yet…
Even as I think that, I don’t believe it. Not really.
I wish he were that shallow; it would be so easy to deal with him then.
“It’s because this idiot—” Jude squeezes my shoulder. “—decided to burn Osborn’s bike out of spite. Told you he won’t sit still. He’s not the type.”
“How do you know what type he is?” I’m obviously fishing for info, because I realized with staggering perplexity that I know close to nothing about Marcus.
The man I let touch me in the obscenest ways possible and kissed out of impulse—no, we’re not talking about that, I was high and it doesn’t count—is a complete mystery.
Yes, sure. He’s the Osborn’s illegitimate child. He was brought up by a single mom who works as a head nurse in Stantonville’s hospital. He studies mechanical engineering at that hellhole SRC and has been playing hockey almost as long as we have. He earned the position of captain of the Wolves last year, and he’s a star of the college league and the god of that ghetto town.
Oh, and he’s a mechanic. Odd—but not surprising, I guess. He’s good with his hands.
Not that I’m thinking of his hands.
But anyway, all that information is basic as fuck and was obtained by a simple background check from Hayes. And yes, I ordered a background check. I might have asked Hayes for a more detailed one.
Don’t judge. Need to be prepared or some shit, as Kane always says.
The point is, I need more information about the guy who’s messing with my head.
“Have you seen him on the ice?” Jude says. “He holds grudges.”