Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Brielle,” she snaps.
“Don’t,” I spit back at her, yanking my wrist free of her flimsy grasp. “I’m late.”
I spin around and storm for the door, scooping up Mom’s keys on the entryway table as I go. Screw her and screw this bullshit life she’s trying to fake. This isn’t us. How could she want a life with that man? Orlando Channing is as bad as they come. He has deep pockets and a charming smile, but that’s as far as it goes, everything else below the surface is nothing but evil. The man cares about nothing except for his ability to win court cases, he doesn’t even care if his client deserves to be in prison or not. He has the ability to manipulate the people around him, and that’s exactly what he’s done to my mom, and she’s stupid enough to go and marry him.
Great. Just fucking great.
Anger pounds through my veins as I get into Mom’s car and take off at the speed of light, only by the time I’m reaching the front gates of Bradford Private, the anger has turned into nothing but hurt.
She moved us into Orlando’s home without a thought for what I needed.
She enrolled me into a school without even talking to me.
She quit her jobs to become his office fuck toy.
She took off to another country without a goodbye.
And now …
She got married without even thinking about me.
If she truly loved this man and he was everything she ever dreamed about, I would have stood by her side, I would have walked down the aisle as her maid-of-honor, and I would have cried the happiest tears watching her say her vows, but this?
This isn’t the woman who raised me. She is so blinded by the money and lifestyle that she can’t even see how Orlando has simply taken control of every aspect of her life. She’s no longer an independent woman. Everything she has relies solely on him.
By the time I’m pulling into a parking space and cutting the engine, I realize tears have been streaming down my face and I hastily wipe them away before glancing at my reflection in the rearview mirror.
I do my best to look presentable. I’m sure word has gotten out about the accident yesterday and I’m going to be the topic of conversation. Glancing up at the big school, I lock Mom’s car and get only a few steps before Chanel is at my side, slipping her arm through mine and helping me up to the school. “You shouldn’t be here,” she tells me, as though I don’t already know that.
I shrug my shoulders, not really sure what to say that’s going to make my being here sound like a good idea. We reach the main part of the school and there are bodies everywhere, making me fear for the walk to my locker. One shoulder charge is all I need to drop me to the ground, and as if sensing that, Chanel switches sides with me to put herself between me and the crowd.
By the time I reach my locker, the bell for homeroom is already ringing and Chanel scurries off, leaving Ilaria to be my guide.
The morning is slow and I don’t see Tanner until I’m sitting in third period English. He walks through the door, late as usual, and the moment he raises his head and finds me, he stops. His dark eyes lingering on mine and causing my heart to race.
The words he said to me fill every space in my mind, so loud it’s like they’re screaming at me, trying to hurt me all over again. He left me broken last night, broken and fucking destroyed just as he always said he would.
Regret shines heavy in his eyes and the intensity is too strong, I’m forced to look away.
“Find your seat, Mr. Morgan,” Miss Harper says. “You’re holding up my lesson.”
Tanner drops his gaze, and a wave of relief washes over my body, only it doesn’t last as he starts to walk toward his seat at the back of the room. Every step he takes in my direction kills me, and I find myself holding my breath, desperate for him to pass, only he doesn’t.
Tanner pauses by my desk, and it takes every bit of willpower not to look up into those eyes that have claimed every part of my soul. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmurs, his tone low but so full of authority. “You need to be home resting.”
“And now you care?” I question, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Bri,” he says, leaving my name lingering in the air between us.
“Miss Harper is waiting,” I remind him. “You’re wasting her time.”
I see his hands ball into fists at his side, not liking this one bit. He drops down beside me, his gaze lingering on the side of my face. “Come on, Killjoy. Just talk to me. You know I didn’t mean any of it. Let me make this right.”