Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
I don’t think. I don’t feel. I just react, aiming the spray at the face of my assailant, kicking and screaming for dear life, fifteen years of parental training and dormant law enforcement DNA coming into play all at once. This is my fight song in the literal sense.
Next thing I know, there’s a bunch of shouting and cursing, and I look down and find Dallas curved into a fetal position, writhing in pain on the hallway floor with one hand covering his face and the other his privates. Not only have I sprayed him, I also landed an unprotected hit below the belt.
Oh effing crap.
Zoe, Blake, and Alice rush out of our suite, their expressions in various stages of surprise. I take that back. Zoe is wearing one of those sparkly purple beauty masks, the gunk is all over her face, so I can’t really tell what’s going on with her.
“Oh my God, Dallas!” Alice shouts.
Then I shout “I-I-I’m so sorry!” at Dallas, not meaning to. “You snuck up on me. I d-didn’t know it was you!”
“Burns––” he barely manages to get out. “Holy fuck, it burns!”
“What did this mofo do to you?” I hear Zoe ask with unmitigated contempt in her voice. “Did he lay a hand on you?!”
“What? No! I just r-reacted. I thought he was a s-s-stalker!”
Stepping around me, Zoe walks over to Dallas’s prone body…and kicks him in the shin.
“Zoe!” Blake, Alice, and I scream.
My automatic reaction is to shove Alice out of the way and dive onto him, shielding his body from further abuse by covering him with my arms.
“You don’t sneak up on women, donkeybrains,” Zoe snaps, glaring down at him. Not that he would know that with his eyes being sealed shut. She attempts another kick that I thwart by grabbing at her ankle.
“Fuck!” Dallas shouts.
“Zoe, stop.”
“Gimme a break. I’m wearing my Golden Goose sneakers. Not like I have my steel-toed Chanel boots on.”
“Jesus Christ, Zoe,” Alice adds.
“Bad. Bad. Bad!” Zoe continues. This time she delivers her justice by pinching his arm.
“I’m pressing charges!” Dallas shouts between coughing fits.
“Please fuck off in the fuckingest way possible.”
“That’s not a thing,” Blake casually remarks. She glances up from staring critically at her perfectly manicured midnight blue nails and rolls her eyes, not even mustering a pretense of interest in this mess.
Zoe glances at Blake and smirks. “I’m making it a thing.”
Meanwhile, back in reality, I’m as far from casual as I could possibly be. Watching Dallas squirming in pain on the ground is seriously stressing me out.
In my entire life I have never hurt a soul. I’m the girl who takes up ants in a dust pan and releases them outdoors instead of killing them. I hurt him and by the looks of it––badly.
“He’s really hurt,” I say to no one and everyone.
“He’ll live,” Blake remarks.
“Can somebody grab the milk from the r-refrigerator, please?”
“Almond, soy, or regular?” Zoe’s voice drips sarcasm.
“Regular!” I bark, exasperated at this point with the lack of cooperation I’m getting from everyone. “Quick, before t-there’s p-permanent damage!”
“What?” I hear Dallas mutter through a cough as the pepper spray is no doubt burning his throat.
Gently taking hold of Dallas’s wrists, I guide his hands away. “Don’t rub. I-It makes it worse.”
Alice thankfully hands me the carton of milk. “Keep your eyes closed,” I tell him.
With no time to lose, I pour it directly on his face, and although at first he jerks, when the milk starts neutralizing the capsaicin he stops squirming.
“Better…thanks,” he rasps.
“C-Come with me,” I murmur and offer my hand, which he grabs onto with a brutal grip. As if I’m the only thing that stands between him and certain death.
Three sets of curious stares follow us as I slowly guide him to the suite bathroom, ones I do my best to ignore. Now is definitely not the time for explanations.
“Holler if you need help cutting up the body.” Zoe’s parting shot comes just as I close the door and lock it.
“If you walk me into oncoming traffic, I’ll be really mad at you, Dory.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I find Dallas trying to stick his head under the running faucet. The fact that he can tease me while his face looks like raw meat and his eyes are sealed shut says a lot about him.
This is the most we’ve ever said to each other, an actual conversation as opposed to what happened during and after the Slow Drip.
Talk about a moment of true fear. I thought for sure he was going to expose me in front of the girls. Not that they would judge, but I would never hear the end of it. Zoe in particular. She seems to equate Dallas with the devil, and finding out that I, not only went to a sorority party in disguise, but also ended up kissing the devil in question, would have given her enough ammo to last until graduation.