Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
When I say nothing, he releases a sigh. “You think Susie would be happy to see you’re spiraling because of her?”
“The dead don’t have any opinions. Stop fucking meddling.”
I hang up, breathing harshly.
As I stare at the phone, multiple notifications come from the chat I have with Kane and Pres, that the latter keeps renaming with stupid shit.
The most recent one is ‘Pres’s Sidekicks.’
Preston
So, Kane, got enough groceries? We’re coming over for food.
Kane
I’m not a restaurant.
Preston
Restaurant? Who the fuck says that? You’re a cook.
Kane
Just let me chill for one fucking day, Pres.
Preston
Nah, you’ll develop depression without my godly presence.
Kane
More like clownish.
Preston
Shush, don’t be rude. Anyway, I have a lot of tea to spill about the big man. Apparently, a girl called sex with him disappointing, and he’s been moping like a bored housewife.
Kane
Really?
Preston
Heck yeah. He’s been asking about his sexual performance and stuff. I’m telling you, he’s going through a crisis of epic proportions. That and he’s being scolded senseless by Julian, judging by his extra-grumpy replies from the other room. He might need a pick-me-up.
Me
I’m going to knock your teeth out, Pres. If you’re going to talk shit about me, shouldn’t you do it in private and not in the group chat I’m in?
Preston
Nah, I believe in inclusion. Anyway, we’re on our way, Kane! Prepare the popcorn. Big man is done being chewed up by Julian.
I’m on my way to the kitchen to choke the fuck out of him when my phone pings in my hand.
Mario
We have a situation.
11
VIOLET
“Please, Vi.”
I release a long exhale at Dahlia’s pleading voice on the other end of the phone as I walk home from class.
It’s about forty minutes on foot, but I don’t mind. This is the only workout I get, and walking helps clear my head.
“Don’t try to be adorable, Dahl.”
“But tomorrow is the only day you don’t have an early shift. I just want us to have some fun at the movies and then go to your favorite kebab place.”
“Or we can watch something at home and I cook. I’d rather you spend that money on your expenses.”
“Boo. Just because we don’t have much to spare doesn’t mean we shouldn’t have fun once in a while.” She releases a sigh. “I know you’ve been stressed by work lately. I’m also exhausted, so I want to cheer us up a little.”
“Fine, but can you pick a family-friendly movie? I promised Laura I’d babysit Karly tomorrow. She’s struggling with her daycare and is scared of her ex suing for custody. Do you mind if we have her around more often?”
“Not at all! She’s a cutie.”
“Thanks, Dahl. I’ll pay for myself and Karly.”
“Don’t be silly, I’ll buy the tickets. I’ve got to go. My break is over. See ya!”
She hangs up before I can insist on paying.
Shaking my head, I slide my phone into my back pocket as I juggle two of my human sciences books in one hand. Classes are kind of kicking my ass, mostly because I don’t have much of an attention span, but I’ll be able to keep my scholarship if I improve my GPA.
In my peripheral vision, I catch a glimpse of Mario, and for the thousandth time in the last couple of days, I consider talking to him. Or falling in step to walk beside him.
But something tells me he wouldn’t like that.
A couple of days ago, after I gave him his usual drink at HAVEN, I asked how he was, but he just looked at me with that detached expression and ignored me.
And I didn’t push, because, well, I’m pretty sure I caught the glint of a gun beneath his jacket.
Guess he’s not interested in talking to the person he’s pseudo stalking.
Shocker.
The actual stalker, however, was nowhere to be seen, having delegated the entirety of his work to Mario.
There were no notes left in my journal, nor was there a motorcycle in front of HAVEN.
Jude just…disappeared.
Not entirely, since Mario is literally tailing me right now, but Jude’s physically not there.
Which is a relief. Even if it’s only been a week.
Ever since he forced me to watch a cold-blooded murder, splashed me with a stranger’s blood, then promised to fuck me if I didn’t get my shit together, I’m glad I don’t have to look at him.
I mean, yes, I told him to fuck me, but, really, I was just in a post-panic attack adrenaline high and kind of just talked nonsense to escape.
Because he’s right. Jude looks like the type who fucks like he speaks. In angry spurts of violence that I definitely couldn’t handle.
Hell, I think I was in some sort of a daze when he thrust his finger in my mouth and kind of made me suck it.
A bloody finger.
With the blood of a man he just killed.
The fact that I only thought of that after I left should be a bright red flag.