Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 822(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“What in the hell was that?” Kylie asked, bringing me back down from the clouds. “Oh my gosh! Did you see the way he looked at you? He’s fucking into you, Jen! Wow…” She put the car in Drive and drove away from the gym, laughing. “Yeah, tonight is going to be really fucking interesting. I’m pretty sure I’m going to see a side of you that I’ve never seen before.” She paused, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. “You know, I never suspected that you’d be the one to crush on an angry-looking guy like Drake Davenport.”
“He’s a cool guy…”
“Yeah, until he actually becomes angry.”
“Well, no one is cool when they’re angry, Ky.” I waved a hand. “I don’t think he’s that bad.”
“Jen, you’re only seeing what he wants you to see. I’ve heard the stories. I’ve been a witness to the damage. My cousin works at the Dawg Pit and he says all they ever talk about is Doomsday… or as you call him, Drake. He told me about the fights that happened outside of the cages. Brutal stuff, man.”
“That Doomsday name is so stupid,” I muttered, trying to avoid the truths.
“Well, it’s what they call him. And, like I said earlier, I’m sure they call him that for a reason.” She looked at me out the corner of her eye. “I won’t cock block tonight, trust me. But please, lovely, be careful with that guy. If he hurts you, I can’t guarantee to whoop his ass. Hell, he could slaughter me with one thump of his pinky finger.” She burst out laughing, and I laughed with her, but not as hard as she did.
But only because Kylie was right. I knew nothing at all about Drake, but I did know he had a foul temper, a sharp tongue, and that he was born to fight. Raised into it. I could see his father was a huge reason why he’d always been so… dark.
As much as I hated what she’d said, I wasn’t going to let it ruin my chances of getting to know him. After all, who was I to judge?
Chapter 5
Drake
What the hell was I thinking? Showing up in this fancy neighborhood full of rich, judgmental fucks?
My Ford F-150 roared as I parallel parked at the curb. I gripped the leather wheel, staring ahead at the house on the lake. It was big. And white. And most likely undeserved.
Most people with homes like this either have cheated their way to the top, have had the money handed down to them from a previous generation, or are just running some illegal shit.
Not that I could talk. What I did wasn’t exactly… legal.
As soon as I shut the engine off, my twin cousins Oscar and Otto hopped out of the car, already acting like fucking banshees. “Come on, dipshit,” Otto shouted at me through the open door. He straightened the black New York Yankees baseball cap on top of his head and then slammed my door behind him.
Oscar shook his head, and I clutched my keys, stepping out of the truck and marching towards the grill. Just as Otto met up to me, I flexed my jaw and pointed a threatening finger at him. “Slam my fucking door again and I’ll slam your fucking face into it.”
Otto held his right hand up, pretending to make it mimic me. “Yadda, yadda, fucking yadda. I slam the shit every fucking day and you have yet to touch me. Come on now,” he slung his arm over my shoulder, turning me towards the house. The front door flew open and loud music with a heavy bass flooded out. “You don’t have to take your nervousness out on me, Doom. I know that girl is here.”
“The one he left the bonfire with?” Oscar laughed as he met at our side. I knocked Otto’s arm off of me and he broke out in a laugh too, now walking backwards to get to the front door.
“Yep. I think her name is Jennifer or some shit like that.”
I cocked a brow at him. “How do you know her name?”
“Read it in the newspaper one time. Her dad owns that Roscoe Waffle company or something like that.”
“Yeah. She’s a rich girl,” Oscar added. “Their waffles are the shit, though.”
Giggling started up behind Otto and he whirled around as two blondes came our way, tittering as they looked up at him.
“Oh, shit.” Otto smirked, watching the girls pass by, his eyes zoning in right on their asses. “Pardon us, ladies.”
They giggled like four-year-old girls. One of them looked Oscar straight in the eye, but they both completely avoided mine.
I knew they wanted to look at me. They always wanted to look but were too afraid to do so. All of the girls, except Jenny Roscoe, anyway. She may or may not have been the reason I was there. Because she wasn’t afraid of me.