Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
She gently wipes her face with the towel, then rolls her eyes as she places it down on the table. Before I can walk off, she grabs my hand.
“Are you involved?”
My eye begins to twitch. “What?”
“Are you involved in the killings?”
“I … I …” I don’t know how to answer.
What should I say? If I admit that I’ve been helping Sunny kill all these people, either Sunny kills me or they will. Either way, I’m screwed.
“Xavier,” Dad presses. “Answer your mom.”
“What killings?” I mutter, laughing it off as casually as I can, but I know I look dumb as fuck.
Silas leans back in his chair and folds his arms. “Interesting …”
“What?” I bark, throwing him a weirded-out glance.
He grins. “Nothing.”
“I don’t even know what y’all are talking about,” I say.
“You spat coffee all over your mother when she mentioned Otto’s scrapyard,” Dad says, as he takes a slice of pizza and munches on it like nothing is going on.
“I just got spooked by the idea of more bodies, that’s all,” I reply, jerking my hand free from my mom’s grip. “Anyway, I’m hungry. Can we eat now?”
I take a slice before anyone else tries to interrogate me because I don’t think I’ll be able to keep this lie going, let alone a straight face.
“You don’t happen to know anything about a murderer being on the loose, do you, Xav?” Aspen muses as she grabs a slice too, and she winks at me as she sits down on the chair.
“No,” I reply with a monotone voice, and I sit down beside her.
“Really?”
I kick her in the shin, and she nearly chokes on her pizza.
“Stop it,” I whisper sideways.
“You need to come clean. Before it’s too late,” she whispers back.
“What are you guys talking about?” Melody asks, breaking my train of thought.
“Homework. Aspen wants me to do hers.”
She audibly gasps. “I did not.”
“I know I’m the smarter twin,” I reply, putting up a petty face.
She pulls a piece of ham off her pizza and sticks it onto my cheek. “Earth to fucking Xav, like hell you are.”
The doorbell rings, and my entire body springs into action. “I’ll go.”
I drop my pizza on my plate and bolt toward the door before anyone can beat me to it, but the moment I open it, I’m at a loss for words.
Sunny clutches her belly, but her black jacket is stained in blood. “I didn’t know where else to go.”
She’s hurt.
I choke up. “Oh my God.”
“I can’t go back,” she murmurs.
Her bike is parked against the tree outside my parents’ house in a way I’ve never seen her park before. She must be in so much pain.
“Back where?” I ask, but she doesn’t answer.
I glance over my shoulder before I walk outside and put my shoulder underneath hers. “C’mon.”
While the others are chatting among each other, I swiftly take Sunny upstairs and into one of the bathrooms all the way in the back of the house, where barely anybody ever comes. Except maybe Melody when she’s covered herself in baby oil again to clean off all the paint stains on her skin.
I put Sunny down on the edge of the tub and close the door before I grab a seat and sit down in front of her. She’s bent over, clutching her sides, breathing out soft puffs of air as a curtain of black-and-green hair covers her eyes. I lean forward to peek underneath until I find the darkness in her eyes reflected in mine.
They narrow. Fiercely.
Terror grips my heart, but I keep my body steady as I grab her arm, which she keeps locked in place.
“Let me see, please.”
After a few seconds, she finally lets me win, and I gently pull it away.
There’s a bloody mark on her jacket, so I slip it off her shoulders and let it drop to the marble floor. The black tank top underneath sticks to her skin from both blood and sweat, and I swallow away the lump in my throat as I look at her voluptuous body.
Focus, Xavier, focus goddammit.
There’s a cut on her arm, which is clearly from a fight, but the wound in her belly is obviously more dire.
I reach for her, and she flinches the moment my finger grazes her shirt, as though she’s prepping for attack mode almost immediately the second someone touches her, and I don’t understand. It’s as if the thought of exposing even an inch of her skin … of herself … makes her feel in danger. Like anything or anyone could be a threat to her.
But I will never, ever hurt her.
“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle,” I say, trying to keep my gaze fixated on her eyes despite the fire roaring in them.
Biting my lip, I gently curl my fingers under her tank top and push up the fabric until her naked belly is exposed, along with the gnarly-looking wound on her side.