Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82050 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Weak,” I grit out. “She makes you fucking weak.” And then I let the rage consume me. I pummel the wall letting my fists scrape against the unforgiving brick. My knuckles bleed, my bones ache, but the fire inside me is still burning hot, it roars, and the flames flicker up toward the sky.
All I wanted to do was talk. I squeeze my eyes shut, wishing she never showed her face here. I know I’ll have to talk to her, eventually…I can’t stay away from her, she’s like a bad drug. She’ll ruin me if I let her, she’s already done so once before, and yet I’m still dumb enough to try and talk to her, to try and reason with her.
Maybe I could get her kicked out of school? Do I really want to go that far? I turn around and start walking back toward the frat house. Instead of pissing my brother off by showing up at his office, I pull out my cell and dial his number.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” His deep voice resonates through the phone.
“What are you, my gatekeeper?” I scoff.
“No, but I am your brother, which is kind of like the same thing.” His response makes me laugh, lightening the feeling Jules left me with.
“I have a question.”
“If it’s about her, I don’t want to hear it.”
“What? Wait, you knew she was here?” My mouth pops open and I stop dead in my tracks. I should turn around and go to the administrative building just to slug him in the face.
“I work for the college, Rem, yeah I knew she was here. I just didn’t think you would notice or care since you haven't even talked to her in three years. You’re way too busy with other stuff, I figured she would sneak right under your nose.”
“While you thought fucking wrong,” I growl, feeling betrayed by my own blood. I know I shouldn’t be mad, because honestly, it’s not his fault, but I am furious, and I have to take it out on someone.
“Did you do something? Is that why you’re calling? I swear, Rem, if you did something, I’m telling Dad. She just lost her brother and her dad.” And just like that, my heart cracks in two.
“You knew that too…” The words come out in a whisper.
“Well yeah, her mom told me, not her. She came in and helped Jules do some paperwork. Anyway, you didn’t answer my question...did you do something? Why are you calling? You never call unless you’ve done something.”
I shake my head and squeeze my cell phone hard enough to break the thing. “Never mind. I’ll deal with it.”
“Deal with—”
I cut off his question by hanging up the phone. I can’t have Jules removed from the school, and that only seems to irritate me more. My brother knew about her brother before even I did. My brothers have always loved Jules, my father cherished her like the daughter he never had, which of course made losing her hurt ten times fucking harder.
I tip my head back toward the sky, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do? I have to talk to her, try and create some type of truce, but even I don’t really want that. It’s the stupid fucking organ throbbing in my chest that wants it.
“Jules,” I say her name, letting it roll off my tongue like it used to all while wondering if I’ll ever be able to look at her and say her name without feeling heartbroken.
Chapter Eight
Jules
Up and down, up and down. That’s what my chest does as I try and calm my erratic breathing. Refusing to let Remington's anger toward me ruin my day. I grab a latte from the coffee shop at the corner before my next class. The caffeine gives me the buzz I need to get through the afternoon. I do everything I can to forget about him. I can't care about him. Not when he's being the way he is. When I arrive for my last class of the day, I spot Cole. He greets me with a smile as soon as I sit down.
“Jules.”
“Cole,” I respond with the same cool tone. I remind myself that he is friends with Remington and that anything I say to him may find its way back to him.
“How are you?”
“Peachy,” I respond, taking a sip of my once warm coffee. The professor starts talking, saving me from any more conversation. I focus on taking notes, jotting every little thing down. By the end of class, I have two pages full and I feel like I'm more on track to being my normal self. My phone chimes in my pocket as the professor gives us our assignment, an essay of course.
“This blows. I fucking hate homework,” Cole announces.
“I don't think anyone likes homework.” I laugh, pulling my phone out, noticing it’s a text from Cally. “I don't know about you, but I’ve never heard someone say ‘yay homework, I’m so glad I have to spend three days writing a paper.’” Sarcasm laces my words, and I become distracted with the text from Cally.