Total pages in book: 203
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199654 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 998(@200wpm)___ 799(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
While getting dressed, I clip, “That Young witch told me not to touch Bailey for three days! Didn’t tell me if I did, I’d get fuckin’ electrocuted!”
Bailey hurries into the house, out of my sight. And that won’t do, so I storm after her, surprised when I can get through the doorframe. Because this feels like it did in that basement – like there’s a shield between me and her.
She’s running up the stairs, so I follow, hearing Graydon cuss behind me.
She tries to slam her door, but as soon as she’s clear of it, my palm slapping it makes it fly open. She whirls to face me, red-faced.
“No! Leave!”
“Not without you!”
I advance.
She backs up into her closed closet door and I cage her in, a hand on either side of her.
I take several deep breaths in an effort to calm myself down, barely taking in the space, the frilly girlie décor, the jam-packed bookshelves, the flowers on the bedspread and on the wallpaper. Stuffed animals in a hammock suspended from the ceiling. I haven’t been in this room in at least a decade. I don’t remember why I was here the last time, but I do take something in. My eyes zoom in on the photo of me on Bailey Blackwood’s dresser. Me and her, my arm around her. It’s in a silver frame and it’s the only one displayed on the dresser. She’s got a bunch of other framed photos on top of her bookshelf, but the one on her dresser is us. And beside it, a stuffed wolf that rings a vague bell.
“What the fuck is that?” I point to it. “That’s how you feel about me, right?”
She ducks under my arm, stomps to the dresser and grabs the frame before she opens the window and hurls it. I hear glass smash as it hits the ground.
“Not fucking okay,” I growl and advance until she’s against the wall and I’m again caging her in.
“No, it’s really, really not, Jason,” she says, voice and chin both trembling.
I know I can’t get any closer, which guts me. Beyond that, the look in her eyes is making my chest feel like it’s caving in.
“You need to go,” she says.
“Not without you, Bay. Let’s sit down and talk this out.”
“Please leave.” She ducks and sidesteps.
I advance. She backs up and falls onto the bed. “No!” she warns, pointing.
“Jase,” Graydon says from behind me.
“I don’t want to hear any bullshit from you, Jason,” she says.
“Bullshit?”
“Anything that comes out of your mouth right now is based on one thing and one thing only. I’m not interested, so please leave me alone.”
“I’m not leaving without you.”
“Jase.” Graydon slaps my back to get my attention.
I turn around and he’s up in my space. But he doesn’t look pissed, doesn’t look like he wants to beat my ass. He looks concerned.
“Walk with me, son.”
Out of respect for the man, I follow, but I’m not happy about it.
15
BAILEY
“Oh my gosh!” Mom rushes in. “What was that?”
“The Young sisters said they’d help me,” I whisper.
My heart feels like it’s going to pound straight out of my chest.
Jase was furious. Livid. Scary.
I want to barf.
I look out the window and see Jase and my father talking on the street. Jase squats and picks up the silver photo frame I threw out the window. Gosh, that was really irresponsible of me. Someone could’ve been hit!
He looks up at me, so I quickly move out of sight.
“Did you see how far he flew back? He could’ve been hurt, Bailey!”
“Excuse me, Mom,” I mutter as I move into my bathroom and shut the door before I grip the vanity and stare into the mirror.
My heart is pounding too hard. My skin feels clammy. My chest is tight.
I regard my reflection as I pull in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Jason Creed. Fated. Fated to Jason Creed.
Anger bubbles up in me just as my phone chimes from my pocket. It might be starting to sink in, and I can’t let it or it’ll take me out.
Outside the door, Mom knocks gently, saying, “Bailey, maybe you should go with him. Talk things out.”
I open the door. “I don’t want this.”
“But this is Jase. Your Jase.”
No. My Jase was a figment of my imagination. The Jase outside is completely different. I don’t want this one.
The house phone is ringing. Mom rushes out, muttering, “One second.”
I sit on the side of the tub and pull my phone out of my pocket. I’ve got a text from Cicely.
Cicely: I don’t know where you are, if you’re back or still in Italy chasing Jase. I have no idea if up is up and down is really down, but things are beyond wonky for me if you haven’t heard.
I write back.
Me: I just got back. Wonky is the whole vibe apparently because get this! Jason Creed identified me as his mate. No, I’m not celebrating. I’m mad as hell. He’s a jerk. I told him I reject him. And he thinks it’s all a big joke. I know the Youngs are trying to help you with your problem. I’m so sorry btw. If I wasn’t across the ocean in the biggest drama of my life I would have been here for you. But we’re having our dramas concurrently so there’s not much I can do for you and definitely nothing you can do for me. I would love nothing more than to come out there and offer you moral support if nothing else (not like you want me cooking meals) but the big jerk prob won’t let me anywhere near you because of your mate so if there’s anything I can do, please let me know and I’ll certainly try.