Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 658(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Not perfect—far from it—but I’d like to think she walked away with a pinch of respect that year. Respect for other people, respect for her own body, respect for herself.
Like Leonidas, I wanted her to grow up knowing she had folks in her corner who’ll always have her back.
She needed it, too, before going off to college.
She might’ve annoyed me to hell and back, but I didn’t hate her as a person.
Hell, I felt sorry for her, having to go home to a father who barely gave her the time of day. When she was little, she used to cry on her last few days with us, begging to stay with Gramps forever.
When she got older, she tried to play it cool. But there was no hiding the change in her posture, the shadows on her face that crept in.
There was also no stopping her from upping the ante her last week.
That’s when I caught the baby of the family trying to climb out of her goddamned window into a tree that wasn’t strong enough to hold her.
All for some punkass boy.
Crazy, the things a girl will do for the sake of some pimple-faced little man-cub who has no plans in life beyond his summer job stuffing lobster rolls.
I stood back in the darkness for a second, watching her from the ground.
She had her hair tied back, wearing jeans and a pleated white shirt, a sweatshirt twisted around her waist in a knot.
The boy waited in the bushes below, obvious as day. The leaves rustled every now and then when he moved.
“Clee, hurry!” he whispered up.
“I am!”
Then it happened.
Her fingers slipped on the branches and she squealed.
Cue action.
I wasn’t having her break her damn neck for a make-out session she wouldn’t remember in two years.
“Miss Blackthorn,” I snapped, striding forward. “Get back inside this instant.”
Predictably, she shrieked again.
Even more predictably, she lost her grip.
The thick tree branch wasn’t thick enough. It gave out under her, plunging her into free fall.
There are moments in life when the adrenaline hits so hard the entire world slows down.
I never moved so fast in slow motion, rushing over, snatching her out of the air, breaking her fall as she landed perfectly in my arms.
Crisis averted. A miracle.
“I’ve got you! Are you hurt?” My eyes searched hers before she said a word.
Stupid comment when she was safe in my arms, maybe, but she needed reassurance.
She stared up at me brokenly.
Then she blinked through her heavy makeup and slapped my chest.
“Holden? What the hell are you doing?” She flipped over, fighting me like an untrained puppy.
Grimacing, I set her down, clamping a hand on her shoulder once she was back on her feet.
“What does it look like? I’m stopping you from busting your head open. You’re welcome.” Swirling, I pointed to the bush where her useless lover boy waited. “You, out.”
The trees rustled loudly and the kid went flying like a rabbit. Only tripping on a rock slowed him down.
A rangy fuckboy, probably a year or two older than her. Just your average overgrown teenager in a white college sports tee that was a size too big for him.
I’d seen him around town a few times, blustering and making himself out to be the big man with his friends on their skateboards.
When he saw me, his face went white as a sheet in the dim moonlight.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Bro, I didn’t mean to… I wasn’t… Shit!”
His look was almost comical.
I didn’t laugh once as I gave him a quick once-over.
My nostrils flared. Hard to believe she saw anything in a startled buck who just showed zero concern for her safety, but I remembered what it was like being a teenager.
Hormones make you stupid, and stupid gets dangerous fast.
“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Blackthorn!”
I frowned.
Wasn’t the first time I’d been mistaken for her old man or Leonidas himself, and I didn’t like it.
“Jace, what the fuck!” she hissed. “He’s not my dad, he’s—he’s just an asshole.”
My grip on her shoulder tightened.
“Kid,” I told the boy. “Beat it before I change my mind about letting you go without calling the cops. You’re trespassing, and that’s the least of what I could slap you with.”
“Okay, y-yeah! I’m going, I’m going.” He gave Cleo one last startled look and sprinted away, pulling his pants up as they sagged around his waist.
Sorry fucking scene.
Then Cleo slapped my hand off her shoulder, tearing away from me.
“Holy crap. Like are you done ruining my life yet?”
Above us, thunder rumbled in the distance. A split second later, a cold ocean rain began pelting us.
“Hate me all you want, Nile. One day, you’ll thank me.” I pointed up at her room. “Back inside, young lady. Right now. The sooner you get moving, the more time you’ll have to figure out what you’re going to tell your grandfather.”
The violet-blue glint in her eyes dripped otherworldly hatred.