Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66997 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
This is stupid. I live here now anyways. I enter the code that unlocks the door then take the stairs two at a time to the third floor and realize he hasn’t actually made it past her front door. He’s in front of it, mumbling, using the door as a way to brace himself up so he doesn’t fall on his ass. His glasses are gone, not that it would help his blindness at this point. Amused, I keep watching from the end of the hall.
He knocks with the strength of a wet noodle. “Open up! It’s Evans! It’s not true, they planted it!”
Another knock.
Then another.
At this point it’s just getting sad.
After the third knock, the door slowly opens up but only a crack. “You need to go.”
“No! Damn it!” He slams his hands against the door with what I’m assuming is his last shred of strength. “I’m serious. I love you! Screw those other girls!”
She curses. “Yeah well you um, kind of did, Evans.”
I smirk, then school my features. Not amusing. Not pretty. Not interesting. Liar.
“Leave.” She sighs. “I told you last time, Evans. I don’t want to call campus security but I will, alright? Just go home. It’s over.”
He smacks his hand against the door harder and shoves her back a few steps. I clench my fists. “You were just a pity fuck anyways, you know that? When Sandra was bored, when my ex came back into town. Do you really think you’re that smart? That pretty? I barely got hard each time—”
She slaps him across the face. It echoes down the hall. “Like I said. Leave before I call the police.”
“You’re disgusting.” He sneers. “A poor girl pretending to be rich, you couldn’t even afford tuition if your father wasn’t a dean. Just how long do you think people will believe the little lies you tell, hmm? About your perfect upbringing? Perfect family?” Her eyes widen a fraction. Shock, a natural response to what happens when you lie about your life; not surprising. She told everyone who asked she grew up with a silver spoon, she didn’t just recreate her life here, she stole mine. A dead man’s. She said she mattered. When people asked about her house, she described mine, her car, she described mine, she even fucking stole art. Who does that? She indulged my obsession with art in high school; she was never an artist. I died and it kind of fucking feels like she stole my life. Part of me thought she was trying to live because I was in prison, the other part thought, wow, she’s living as if I’m dead and she wanted what I had the whole time. “What? Scared I looked into you?” He laughs. “I know all the little things you did right down to testifying—”
“Nope,” I whisper under my breath. Now he’s just pissing me off, how dare he take way my thunder and target all in one threat? She’s mine to bury not his. The jealousy I feel that he would even think to do what I’ve been planning for years enrages me beyond belief. Mine to stalk, mine to hunt, mine to destroy.
I don’t hesitate. I stomp down the hall. He barely has time to look over his shoulder before I grip the back of his neck and slam him against the wall. “Leave before I kill you.”
“Wh-what the hell, Jude?” he mutters. “I thought we were at least colleagues or friends, our fathers go way back--.”
“I don’t have friends, I loathe my father.” I flick a knife toward his neck. Also, I could destroy him if I want to, I just like to let my pawns assume friendship; it’s less work.
“Shit!” he mumbles. “Listen, I didn’t do anything, she was willing alright? This is between us I was already fire—"
“It’s sharp.” I grin pressing it a bit harder against his skin, the things I did—had to do to survive for two years would make him piss himself. “And very clean, I hate my knives clean, pisses me off that people would assume they haven’t been extensively used,” I dig deep into his flesh until he starts to bleed. I take a minute to relish in the way he tenses beneath my touch while his blood trickles down the metal. “Whoops, guess it’s dirty now, I should just finish the job now that I’ve started…” He’s shaking, and then I smell it. Piss. I knew it. He’s either that drunk or that weak. “Once a dog always a dog.” I jerk him by the neck again and shove him away. I hate guys like him, guys who feed off their family name and money like leeches without anything good to add to society, the fact that she picked him enrages me even more because he touched her in ways I used to dream about. “Leave the property, the cops would be too nice to you. Next time I see you I finish what I started and I’m good at burying things. Daddy taught me well.” My eyes burn into him. “Run along Evans, play time is over…”