Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
We left soon after that. I shake the memory loose and drag myself out of bed.
Orientation’s at eleven, which is why I set my alarm for seven last night—like an idiot. Four more hours of sleep would’ve been the smart move, but if my father drilled anything into me, it’s this: once you commit to a plan, you bleed for it.
So I don’t second-guess. I just grab my bag.
Inside: snacks, water, journal, phone. The usual essentials, minus my knife, which I leave beneath my mattress.
If anyone stops me, I’m just a college girl exploring campus and stalking a very dangerous Giant in possession of a very dangerous hidden memory.
Totally. Normal.
I leave my room and hit the down button for the elevator.
The scent of the outdoors fills the air, and I can feel someone approaching from down the hall, but it’s not Aric.
I don’t have to look to know Reeve is wearing that same easy grin that never seems to leave his face. “Going hiking? Meditating?”
“Reeve,” I say through clenched teeth. “You’re up early and on the wrong floor.”
“I like to bird-watch on the roof,” he says dryly.
The elevator doors open. We both get in.
The silence is uncomfortable. “Why are you here, Rey? Really?”
“Education,” I say smoothly. “Why else would I be here?”
“You’re not welcome, and you know it. Aric believes your father had our parents killed, and I can’t say I disagree.”
Well, at least he came out and acknowledged the giant-ass elephant in the room. I’m surprised it took this long.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” I say, and I mean it. “But from what I saw in the news, it was a tragic accident, your parents.” I want to believe this is the truth, but part of me has always wondered if my father—and by relation, me—had any hand in their deaths.
“Bullshit,” he snaps, and I flinch as his voice echoes off the walls of the elevator.
I probably deserved that. “I’ve just apologized even though it’s not my fault. Maybe you’re just prejudiced against me because of my name. If so, work on that. Your family isn’t innocent, either.” I barely tamp down the rage. He might not remember what the Giants did in destroying the Bifrost. But I’ve been told—and I’ve spent a lifetime suffering under Odin for it.
Thankfully, the elevator doors open, and I’m through them before he can even gather a breath.
I walk across the campus, headed toward the dining hall for breakfast, but at the last second, I veer left toward the forest path. I need to calm down. I don’t resent Reeve for rehashing the past, but it doesn’t accomplish anything, certainly not peace or healing.
Not to mention, no matter what, I’ll still be found guilty because of who my father is, because of what he’s capable of doing. What he’s done.
I shake it off.
I know from the intel in the notebook that Aric normally does some meditation in the woods around this time. Fantastic. I walk farther past the tree line, carefully avoiding the arch, and down the trail.
The only time I’ve ever seen something unusual happen around Aric was that day at the beach with the sheen of frost. He’d walked away, his back to the ocean, so it’s possible he didn’t even notice. But what set it off?
One minute we’d been sharing a moment—and the next he’d been cruel and stormed away. Well, if showing your cruel side is what powered a god, no wonder my father was the most powerful of them all. He’d mastered that before I was out of diapers.
As I round a curve in the path, I see Aric stopped in a clearing. A few feet beyond him, the still water of a spring reflects the eerie gray light of the sky.
I dodge behind a tree and peer out around it just in time to see him shrug off his jacket, followed by his shirt. He tosses them onto an old wooden bench, and my breath catches.
He’s facing me like he’s putting on a show. Um, not what I expected.
He’s not making eye contact, but his stare is so direct, I think he must have seen me duck behind this tree. Mouth dry, I keep watching. I can’t tear my eyes away.
Maybe he didn’t spot me and he’s just an exhibitionist? I still can’t see all of him because of the typical Washington early-morning mist, but when it finally clears, it’s to see him slowly starting to unbutton his jeans. What the hell?
“Is this your first time?” he calls. Shit. He did freaking see me. But maybe he doesn’t know it’s me?
Wait, what did he just ask me? Embarrassment burns my cheeks.
“Reyyyy?” He says my name like a taunt, stretching it out way longer than necessary. “I mean, if you want to join me in skinny-dipping, I won’t complain. But I can’t promise I won’t drown you.”