Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 753(@200wpm)___ 602(@250wpm)___ 502(@300wpm)
He brushed his lips against the side of my neck and fear pebbled over my flesh. Fear, anger, hatred—they were all cooked with the same ingredients used to fuel the one emotion that was abused as much as it was chased. “You want this. Stop fucking playing.” His fingertips skimmed the line of my bikini and my thighs clenched together. “I don’t know why. All I’d do is break you open and tear out every single thing that makes you good.”
I pushed away from him and this time instead of him holding me in place, he let go. I swam through the water, annoyed with myself for not fighting hard enough. Why did I let that happen?
Fuck War.
And fuck the casualties that he always seems to take down with him.
“You good?” Stella peered at me over her Prada glasses, holding two red Solo cups in each hand. Her midnight black hair was braided into two fancy fishtails on either side of her head. “What’d he do?”
“Nothing.” I swiped one of the cups from her. If there was one thing that I was good at doing, that was ignoring War.
Well… no, that was only a half-truth.
Passing the people drinking near the swing that swoops out to the water, I followed the trail through the clearing, stepping over broken twigs and flowers. Devil’s Cockpit starts from the bed of water on the other side near the skid pad, but you can also cut through this track to get to the private sandy cove.
I hadn’t quite reached the end when I felt the invisible touch of eyes from behind. Maybe it was the silence because of the separation between where I stood and where I had to go, or maybe it was the way the wind curled around my ankles and that familiar weight of dread filled my stomach.
My fingers prickled as I spun around, only to be met with nothing. Nothing but the empty pathway that I just walked. Before I could overthink, I continued through the track. That same weight fell to the ground when a shadow stepped out from behind a tree.
He was tall and lanky, and had a red-and-white spiral earring hooked from his lobe.
His head tilted to the side and my mouth watered.
He was way too old to be here.
“You lost?” My feet carried me to where he stood, as the wind tossed around the loose strands of my hair.
I tucked a lock behind my ear. “I’m Halen, I—” I paused. Oh no.
He didn’t answer.
I sidestepped away from him, but my arm brushed his in passing. Blinding pain gripped around my throat as I fell to my knees. I couldn’t breathe. The world began to crumble around me.
The track.
The sand.
The laughter and sounds of shredding tires.
Everything dissolved around me as he grabbed me by my throat and hauled me to my feet. The world as I knew it was no longer.
The world as I knew it was bleak.
War
14 years old
My bedroom door crashes open as Halen slips inside, resting her back against it when it closes. I stopped wondering what the fuck game she was playing at a long time ago. She was Halen Hayes. The girl got away with everything.
Literally.
“Halen.” Priest stands from my bed, spilling weed all over the carpet. Not that Dad or Mom cared much. Pretty sure Mom ate brownies on the daily. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
Even with J. Cole and Joyner Lucas beating through the walls, it does nothing to distract Priest.
“Ah… like I’m not coming if you guys are throwing a party!” She flicks her long brown hair over her shoulder, narrowing her eyes on all of us. She settles on me, because she always fucking does.
My eyes fall to the cup she’s holding in her hand. “You drunk?”
“Hmmm?” She straightens her shoulders a little too tightly, as if trying to appear sober. “No. Unfortunately.”
Vaden watches her closely, his eyes darkening. “She’s off her face.”
“Aw, Vade…” She drops her bottom lip. “We could bet your R35 that I’m not.”
Priest points at his twin with a rolled J between his fingers. “Go downstairs. Now. I’m taking you home.”
“You can’t. You’re drunk.” I push up from my bed, holding her stare. “I’ll take her.” We’d been avoiding each other since her thirteenth birthday. Pretty sure she made an extra effort to stay away from me after that.
Priest tucks the joint behind his ear, closing the distance between the two of them. He lowers himself to her eye level, which is more than a whole foot shorter. “You were supposed to be at home.”
She challenges him. “I was. And then I decided that I wanted to get drunk. Lucky for me, you guys make that easy.”
“I’ll drop her on the way to Emma’s.” The party is small right now because the night is young. It’s barely nine p.m. and she is clearly already off her shit. In a couple hours, the house will be filled with drunk fuckboys, and well… Dad said no blood on the carpet.