Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Now it was my turn to laugh out loud. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on! You know I don’t like surprises.”
“All the more reason to torture you.”
“I think you have that area pretty much nailed.”
He tried to grip my thigh to tickle me, but I intercepted his hand at the last second.
“Did you see that, Julius Knightly? I have catlike reflexes.” I wiggled my eyebrows.
He grinned wickedly, side-eyeing me. My gaze followed his movement, and he used it to his advantage, squeezing my inner thigh harder.
“No!” I thrashed around. I hated being tickled.
“What was that?” he mocked, squeezing tighter.
I squealed, laughing. “Please!” I begged.
“You want my mercy?”
“Yes!”
“Then repeat after me.”
“I can’t! Stop tickling me first!”
He did, leaving his death grip on me for good measure.
“I, Isla.”
“Are we getting married?”
He clutched on like a vise.
“Okay! Okay!”
He paused his attack, continuing, “Will do everything Julius asks today.”
“It’s not your birthday.”
For his big eighteenth, we celebrated with Roland. I made him a red velvet cake, and he invited a few friends over. It was nice. Julius took the whole weekend off from work, and all three of us binged Ozark in the living room. We ate an obscene amount of junk food and pizza, utterly addicted to the show. Relating to it way too much.
“I only get what I want on my birthday?”
I sassed, “It depends on what you want.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “What if I want you?”
It was the perfect reply and exactly what I craved.
I caved, repeating, “I, Isla, will do everything Julius asks today.”
Meaning every last word.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
ISLA
An hour later, we were walking into Central Park. I loved it there. It was one of my favorite spots to just chill and hang out with him. Sometimes I’d take the subway and do schoolwork all day. I’d buy a hot dog and a coffee, and I was set for hours. Julius wasn’t a fan of my riding the subway by myself when he wasn’t around, so Kraven would accompany me when he wasn’t busy.
I’d do school and then tutor him. To keep him focused was a challenge, but he was definitely smart. He knew a lot more than he gave himself credit for. Julius claimed I was being a good example to him and appreciated the help in getting his grades up.
Before we left the house, Julius and I packed some lunch, and while feeding the ducks our leftovers, I celebrated, “Oh my God! Do you see that baby duckling? He’s so cute. You know what? We should get ducks.”
He laughed, sitting on the edge of the pond, and I followed suit.
“And where are we going to put these ducks?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but they would be loved.”
He chuckled.
“Maybe we can start with a cat.”
“A cat, yeah?”
“Yeah, a black one, I can name him Salem.”
“You’re a cat person?”
I motioned to myself. “I think this speaks for itself. Besides, they’re easier to take care of than a dog. More independent too.”
“You ever owned a dog?”
I shook my head. “You?”
“Once.”
“Aw, when?”
“I was seven. It lasted about a month. Dad won him in a poker game, and then Mom traded him for drugs.”
I grimaced, hating that sad story. “I’m so sorry I asked.”
“It’s alright.”
“Is it? You never talk about them unless it’s little remarks like that.”
He shrugged. “I don’t have much to say about them.”
“How old were you whe—”
“Twelve.”
I exhaled. “When I was twelve, I was living in a group home with the most disgusting food out of all of the ones I stayed in. It was so bad that I slept on an empty stomach most nights. They actually had to move me to another facility because I got really thin.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “They definitely don’t spend money on the food. Fosters don’t care for the older kids too much.”
“Yeah, they didn’t care much for me when I was a baby either. I guess you could say I got lost in the system.”
His eyebrows lowered, paying close attention to me.
“I never met my parents.”
He frowned. “You never looked for them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“For what reason?”
“Curiosity.”
I smiled through the pain. “It killed the cat, remember?”
The expression on his face softened. “You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met, you know that?”
“I’m not that strong. I ran away most of the time.”
“Saved your life though.”
“Yeah, it did.”
After pausing for a moment, he asked, “How many times have you run?”
“More times than I care to count…”
He hid back a sad smile, knocking his shoulder into me. “I’m not much of a flighter, I'm more of a fighter myself.”
“Oh!” I joked, “So that’s just a Knightly trait?”
In a neutral expression, he reminisced, “My mom used to say we were nothing like our father, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Fair.”
Trying to lighten the mood, he asked, “How’s school going?”
“Good.”
“Your classes?”
“Good.”
“You’re taking college credits in high school. That’s more than good. That’s amazing. By the time you graduate, you’ll have enough credits to be considered almost a sophomore at any university. That’s a hell of an accomplishment.”