Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I gasp when Marcus grabs Preston’s fist that’s on his chest.
Marcus’s knuckles are covered in bruises, some of them busted, as if he’s fresh out of a fight.
“My, oh my.” Marcus grins, his eyes shining bright. “Are you angry, my prince?”
Preston shoves him away and smiles at me, but it’s forced. He wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go inside, Vee. Some fly is polluting my air with its constant buzzing.”
“I haven’t finished talking. Also, this needs to go.” Marcus grabs Preston’s wrist from my shoulder and twists so fast and powerfully that I think he’ll break his arm.
Preston releases himself and kicks Marcus. In the stomach.
“Motherfucking bitch! You just never know when to back the fuck off.” Preston kicks him again and again, but Marcus is just laughing.
The whole scene feels surreal to watch. As if I’ve been thrust into an alternative reality.
It’s the first time I’ve seen Preston this worked up, and I’m pretty sure that Marcus is normally the one doing the beating, not the other way around.
Preston stops kicking him, releasing a long breath and flashing him an entirely fake smile. “You got your five minutes of attention. Now, shoo and stop disturbing us.”
I think I see a flash of rage in Marcus’s eyes, but before I can focus on what’s going on, a motorcycle stops beside us—or more like screeches to a halt.
Jude hops off the bike and removes his helmet, revealing hard features and a scowl that’s worse than his permanent one.
It should be wrong that my chest flutters and my stomach tightens upon seeing him.
It should be illegal.
He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me flush to his taut, muscular side.
He’s not even touching me directly, but his grip starts a little riot on my starving flesh.
God, am I becoming a sex addict?
Because he didn’t come over yesterday, and I couldn’t help being a little disappointed. That’s part of the reason why I joined Dahlia and Megan for the game in the first place.
“What’s going on here?” he asks Preston and Marcus, who’ve stopped glaring at each other or whatever those two are doing.
Marcus smirks upon seeing Jude’s arm around my waist. “Just a friendly drop-by.”
“Nothing about your presence is friendly, Osborn,” Jude says, tightening his grip on me.
“True.” He taps his lip. “Is Vee your girl, Callahan?”
“Her name is Violet, and yes, she is. You have a problem with that?” Jude shifts slightly, so he’s kind of shielding me.
But I’m just staring dumbfounded because, did he just call me his girl? I’m not. We’re just…friends with benefits.
Okay, we’re not friends, so it’s just the benefits, I guess.
“No problem whatsoever.” Marcus grins and then points a thumb at Preston. “Armstrong might, though, considering he was flirting with her. Keep a better eye on her, yeah? Wouldn’t want her to end up in a freak accident.”
Jude takes a step forward, but Preston is already wrapping an arm around Marcus’s throat from behind, choking him. “Never mind us, big man. I’mma beat the crap out of this creep real quick.”
“Question. What’s with all the choking?” Marcus strains, tapping Preston’s arm. “Is it a form of paraphilia up for exploring?”
“Just call someone to throw him out of town,” Jude tells Preston. “And don’t kill him.”
“But why not?” Preston glares down at him. “He’s obviously itching to meet his maker.”
“If you’re my grim reaper, why not? Yum.”
“Fucking creep.” Preston shoves him away. “Your face doesn’t even give me the urge to kill. What a turn-off.”
Jude narrows his eyes on both of them, then pins Preston with a look. “Call someone. Don’t do anything alone.”
Then he’s dragging me to his motorcycle.
“Wait.” I pull on his hand. “We’re not going to the club?”
He pauses, pulling out the extra helmet. “Do you want to?”
“Not really.”
“Then you won’t have to.” He slides the helmet on my head. “We’re going on a ride.”
29
VIOLET
Idon’t know what I expected.
Maybe I thought Jude would take me home or, I don’t know, just drive his bike around like he usually does in the morning—lingering on longer routes before we reach campus.
Instead, he stops at the top of a hill overlooking the town.
I’m slightly apprehensive about the whole night. Not only is this the first time I’ve worn a dress in over a decade, but we also left Preston with Marcus, who looked like he’d hurt him.
However, the strongest reason why I’m on edge is Jude.
He’s been tense and silent the entire ride.
He kills the bike’s engine with a flick of his wrist. The sudden heavy silence stretches wide over the cloudy night, broken only by the distant rustle of wind through the trees.
I hesitantly pull my hands from around his waist, and he hops off and walks to the edge of the hill.
Rubbing my arms, I do the same, my heart beating loudly. The chill stings, slipping under my clothes, biting at the skin of my exposed hands.