Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Ever.
“I hate you,” I lied on a broken sob. The truth was I could never hate my father no matter how much he hurt me, and maybe it was the reason Angel mocked us, but my father was all I had. I could see the jade in his eyes returning a second before I turned and ran.
* * *
I WAS STARING in the mirror silently bemoaning my puffy eyes and hoping they’d return to normal before the party when the doorbell rang. When the tears finally stopped, I’d decided I wasn’t waiting around for Daddy’s permission. He’d be forced to deal with me when he found me at the party falling deeper in love with his best friend’s son.
Still standing at the mirror, the visitor continued to ring the doorbell more rapidly until it became obnoxious. My phone then vibrated twice signaling a new message, and when I saw Angel’s name at the top of the message, I quickly snatched up the phone.
Angel: Answer the door, Sprite.
I clutched the phone tight in my hand. It couldn’t possibly be him standing on the other side of my parent’s front door. Even he wouldn’t be that daring.
Would he?
I ran, dangerously skipping steps on my way down. I thought of my puffy red eyes for only a second before I ripped open the door. I was wearing a smile I couldn’t fight, but when I saw who was standing on the other side, my smile quickly fell.
The man standing on my front porch didn’t have Angel’s dark hair, imposing body, or eyes with depths no one could ever reach.
Instead, this stranger sported blond hair and impatient blue eyes. He was dressed in a navy sports coat with a simple white shirt underneath and dark gray slacks hugging his legs. Clutched in his hands were three boxes of varying sizes. The adrenaline that sent my heart racing with anticipation, fear and delight evaporated.
“Mian Ross?”
“Yes?” The confusion I felt was evident in my tone. He held out his arms, indicating I take the boxes. I did after a moment’s hesitation.
I put them on the floor just inside the door and turned to ask what the packages were. “Sign here,” he instructed before I could question. He then thrust a tiny device forward, and I obediently scribbled my name across the screen. “Have a good day.” He turned and left, leaving me even more confused.
I eyed the packages after closing the door. There was no labeling. The smallest box was made of light blue velvet. It looked just like a box to hold a ring. I took the boxes upstairs, and only when I was behind doors did I open the first box.
A ring was exactly what I found inside.
My eyes bulged at the size of the single diamond. With careful fingers, I plucked the ring from the bedding. The band was platinum, and a diamond twinkled brightly at the very top of the band even in the low lighting.
I didn’t know much about rings, but this seemed like a ring a guy gave a girl when he wanted her to wear it forever. But that was impossible, right? I was only sixteen, and Angel didn’t love me.
With shaking hands, I placed the ring back in the box and closed it gently. The possibility that it could be true was too frightening, so I decided not to open the rest until I had answers.
It took me four tries before I knew what to say.
I got your package, but somehow, I think you know that already… What does it mean?
My other problem occurred to me after I’d sent the text. A few minutes had already passed without a response, so I bit my lip and sent another.
Um…I may need a ride. My dad bailed a few hours ago, and he still isn’t back.
Ten minutes later, I was still waiting on Angel’s response when the front door opening and closing sounded as if it’d been kicked in by Big Foot. I could hear Daddy calling my name. His voice sounded desperate as he ran up the stairs. Seconds later, he was filling my bedroom door looking just as he sounded.
“I need you to pack a bag and come with me.” When I didn’t jump to obey, he snapped. “Now, Mian.”
His mood obviously hadn’t improved in the few hours since he left, but this time, instead of running away in tears, I stood my ground and crossed my arms.
“Why should I come with you? You’re being kind of a jerk.”
“Mian, I’m very serious.” He brushed past me to my closet and pulled out my lime green Jansport. My arms dropped from my chest when he dumped my notebooks and homework from the backpack. He then crossed to the dresser and started pulling my clothes out randomly and stuffing them into the bag.