Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
The guy falls back and his friends start howling with laughter, moving away to watch the show instead of helping their friend. Without the crowd at his back, he falls to the ground, and after steadying myself on his chest, I show him exactly what this trash is made of.
My weight sits heavily on his chest and I nail my fists against him as quickly as I can, not allowing him the chance to grab hold of me as he desperately tries to protect himself, just the way Kairo had taught me.
He will not get away with this.
Not only is he disrespecting me and the way I was raised, but he’s disrespecting Colton and his father. Who the fuck does that? Back home, no one would dream of speaking ill of a man who was just murdered in cold blood. It’s wrong on so many levels.
My fists start to hurt but I keep pounding away for all the times I’ve been looked down on, for every shitty comment thrown my way, and for every fucker in this place who has constantly underestimated me. I’m back to my roots, feeling like the girl I used to be. I’ve been on my best behavior here … well, mostly. I haven’t lashed out like this at anyone and to me, that’s considered a miracle. The old Ocean is back and from now on, I’m standing tall.
Strong arms curl around my waist and I’m pulled off the king of the douches, kicking and screaming. “Let me go,” I demand, clawing at the arm when I realize it’s not Milo’s.
“Chill, babe,” Charlie says in my ear. “You’ve done enough.”
I relax against him and allow him to pull me away while Milo and Spencer follow along. I have no idea where these two came from as I’m damn sure they weren’t here when I first started laying into that fucker—though it seems that a lot of people weren’t here when this shit started. The crowd has nearly tripled and—not that I give a shit— there are at least twenty cameras on us. Come tomorrow though …
Charlie doesn’t release his hold on me until we’re standing in front of my locker and all three boys are crowding around me, making it impossible to escape. “What the hell was that?” Charlie asks. “Do you even know who that guy is?”
I shrug my shoulders. “Should I? He’s just another spoiled rich kid who learned not to play with fire.”
Spencer groans. “That’s Marcus Dawson. His father is on the board for three of Charles’ businesses. If you fucked him up, that would mean trouble for Colton.”
“Please,” I scoff. “Look at me. I’m 5’2. No proud father is about to go and tell the world that his 6-foot son just got his ass whooped by some trailer trash girl from Breakers Flats. Trust me, even with the footage, they’ll deny it or call it some sort of distasteful prank.”
“Yeah,” Spencer scoffs. “To the media, they will, but to Colton, it’s a fucking bomb sitting under his ass that he now has to diffuse. He’s got enough shit to deal with, he doesn’t need you creating more fucking drama all the time.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I demand, stepping into him. “You better watch yourself. I won’t hesitate to put you in the ground.”
“Chill out, tiger. Just saying it how it is.”
“No. You’re being a dick because you’re just like the rest of the fucking spoiled asshats around here. Besides, what I do has nothing to do with Colton. If that fucker’s moneybags daddy has an issue, then he can bring it to me. I don’t need Colton fighting my battles.”
Spencer narrows his eyes. “What the hell has gotten into you over the last few days? You’re being a fucking bitch.”
“Oh, did I miss the part where we became friends?”
“Are you forgetting that little chat we had by the pool?”
“You mean when you came at me during the party and shoved Colton so far down my throat that I’ll be shitting him for the next week? The chat where you thought about what was best for him and didn’t give a damn about what I might want? Or, maybe it was the little ‘chat’ you forced on me to keep me outside and allow Jude the time to get to me?”
Spencer’s eyes bug out of his head before he grabs me and slams me up against my locker while being careful not to press his body too close to mine, remembering what had happened on Saturday night. “I had nothing to do with that,” he spits, holding me tight. “Jude acted alone and don’t you fucking forget that. I won't let you bring me down for something that he did. So, despite what you may think, we’re the fucking good guys.”
Spencer lets out a breath and eases up on his hold but doesn’t completely move away. “I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you, Ocean. I thought we were chill. I saw the way you were looking at Colton during that party and I damn well know how he feels about you so stop trying to deny shit. We’re here trying to fucking help you.”