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)
“Such a protective little brother,” I say, throwing him a cheeky smile. “Love ya.”
A few days later
I knock on the dean’s office door and sigh out loud when he finally says, “Come in.”
I step inside. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Sit down, please.”
I close the door and clear my throat before I sit down in the seat opposite his desk.
“How are you?” he asks.
“Do you care?”
His brow twitches. “Of course, I do. You’re my niece.”
“Because you should, not because you want to.”
“Is everything going okay at the sorority?”
Ugh, I hate small talk.
“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been there in days.”
His eyes narrow. “Where’ve you been staying then?”
“Here. There. Everywhere, really. I have friends.”
I haven’t actually been back because I don’t feel safe anymore now that homeboy Foley knows I am his stalker. I’m well aware he’s been waiting for my return to the sorority so he can give me a piece of his mind, and I’m not going to wait there for him to come pick me up like some dainty little lady.
“So why did you want me here? It was obviously urgent,” I say, clearing my throat.
“Right. A body was burned at Otto’s scrapyard, and another body was found right outside campus grounds.”
I fold my arms.
“Do you happen to know anything about that?” he asks.
“Why would you immediately think of me?”
The pen he’s holding between his thumb and index finger starts wiggling back and forth faster and faster.
“I already talked with my son, and it wasn’t him.”
“And you believe him, of course,” I reply, stoically.
“Cops are swarming these grounds, and I have people asking me questions about students that I cannot answer. Hell, even the fucking frats and sororities are being monitored for dangerous activities,” he rants.
I shrug. “I don’t see how that’s my problem.”
“Do I need to contact your mother?”
My eye begins to twitch. “Do you want to start another war with your own sister?”
“No, I’m trying to put a stop to this before it destroys the university,” he says through gritted teeth. “One of you is lying, and I will find out who it is.”
I snort. “I thought you knew by now that you reap what you sow.”
His brows furrow. “How so?”
“You created your son. Like my mother created me.”
His nostrils flare.
“We are peas of the same pod,” I say, smiling.
“Lana never killed indiscriminately.”
I lean back and throw my arm over the chair. “Oh, and you think I do?”
The flicking of the pen stops. “So you admit it was you?”
I tilt my head. “I’m not admitting to anything. I’m simply holding up a mirror.”
“You can talk your way out of this as much as you want. We all know the truth.”
We stare each other down for a few seconds before he finally erupts in a sigh.
“Let me help you, Sunny.”
“Oh my God.” I laugh. “Why does everyone suddenly want to help me?”
“Because you’re obviously hurting to be lashing out like this,” he points out.
“Why do you care?” I spit. “No one has ever cared what happens to women like me.”
“That’s not true. We’ve always cared about everyone in the entire family.”
“Oh, so that’s why you lot all decided to try to kill each other last year,” I rebuke.
He bites his bottom lip, clearly annoyed. “That was a different dispute.”
“I was there,” I say. “I should know.”
“We both know the violence that runs through our veins,” he says. “But to kill and leave bodies strewn about the entire city is a one-way ticket to jail.”
“Is that a threat?”
He slams his hand down on the desk. “Dammit, Sunny, why do you think everyone is constantly trying to fight you? We are not your enemy.”
My jaw tightens, and I feel an inkling of a tear forming in my eye, but I push it away.
I do not fucking cry, not for anyone, let alone my uncle.
“Then why does it feel like that?”
His face softens, and he leans back to rub his forehead. “Sometimes I feel like I’m no better than any of the previous deans. Or a good uncle.”
Wow. I did not ask for a therapy session, but I guess we’re going with it now.
“I do not want to be stern. I fucking hate it,” he continues. “But I have to protect people, and that includes you, even from yourself.”
“And what about me? When do I get what I want?” I ask.
He focuses on me again. “What do you want, Sunny? Does killing all these people solve your problems?”
“I didn’t say I was the killer.”
“Hypothetically then.”
I keep my mouth shut.
“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me.”
“It could be anyone,” I reply.
“I already spoke with everyone, including Silas. He swears it wasn’t him.”
I keep staring at him. I don’t care if he wants to play this game. I’m not going to admit to it out loud. Not yet, anyway.
“And like I said, you believe him, not me,” I say. “Because he’s your son.”