Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 139870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 699(@200wpm)___ 559(@250wpm)___ 466(@300wpm)
I narrowly squeeze through the flood of desperate girls, pushing and clawing to get a glimpse of the guys they’ve heard so much about. Once outside of the gates, and I have the parking lot in view, I instantly begin scanning. Only I don’t have to wait long. The Veneno is front and center with Colton Carrington leaning up against it, his eyes on me, looking every bit of the badass that he is.
I take him in, and everything south of the border clenches.
Fuck me, there’s something about him today. Maybe it’s the dangerous sparkle in his eyes or the way that he leans against his car with his strong arms crossed over his wide chest. His hair is messy, his sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his top button undone. He looks as though he’s had the day from hell and that thought alone has me picking up my pace.
Girls all around watch him, and then they watch me watching him, all but drooling over the glorious sight before them. I hear his name whispered on nearly every set of lips around me, some groaning in delight while others wonder how quickly they could steal him away.
I tune it all out, desperate to get into his arms and make whatever pain he’s feeling fly away, but as I get closer, I can't help but wonder why he’s here. Is it just because he’s had a shit day and wanted to pick me up, or is something going on? He never picks me up unless I specifically ask him to. Milo’s not here, so I’m assuming that Colton told him not to bother.
Concern sets itself into my mind, and as I get just a few feet away, his bloodied knuckles become obvious. I start scanning just a little closer, really taking him in. His knuckles aren’t just bloodied but deeply bruised, his shirt is torn, pants dirty, and he looks fucking exhausted. Not to mention the blood splattered all over his clothes.
Colton prides himself on being put together. When he’s at home, he doesn’t give a shit and will walk around half-naked, but in public, he makes a point of looking the part, even when his world is burning to ashes around him. So for Colton to be standing here, looking disheveled and broken, something’s up, and for some reason, my gut instinct is telling me to run.
Whatever this is, it’s big.
I slow my pace, desperately wanting to put off whatever bullshit bomb that I fear is about to be dropped on me.
By the time I reach him, I’m walking at a snail's pace, doing everything I can to avoid the inevitable. The worry must show on my face as he pushes off his car and instantly wraps me in his arms. “It’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, holding me close, neither of us concerned about the blood that stains his clothes and is now most likely all over mine.
“What happened?”
He releases his hold on me and takes my hand, leading me around to the passenger side. “Not here,” he tells me. “Just wait till we’re in the car without your whole school listening.”
I look up and meet his eyes with concern, but he gives nothing away as he opens the door for me and helps me in. I drop into the seat, still slightly throbbing with the dull ache that remains in my muscles from last week’s attack.
Colton closes the door and as I drop my bag to the floor. I watch him walk around to his side, a grim expression on his face, but I’m distracted as my nostrils flare with the strange disinfectant smell filling the car.
I’ve never seen anything like it. Colton looks as though he’s about to be sick with whatever he has to tell me. If he was any other guy and I didn’t know just how deep his love ran for me, I’d be worried that he’s about to end it. But the blood and torn clothes are kind of a dead giveaway that this is something different, something huge.
Colton gets into his car, and as his engine rumbles to life, I glance over at him, sitting as still as can be as he stares out the windshield. “Just rip it off like a bandaid,” I tell him. “Whatever it is, I can take it.”
Colton looks over at me and lets out a heavy sigh before finally hitting the gas and taking my ass home. “I beat the living shit out of Russo today,” he tells me. “I bargained for your freedom and blackmailed him until he agreed before leaving him in a pool of his own blood.”
“What?” I breathe, staring at Colton as though he’s some kind of stranger. “Why would you—”
“Just wait,” he tells me, pulling over on the side of the road to where we won't have any eyes watching us. “As I was leaving, I used his phone and called one of his guys to come and get him, but Snake assumed I was Russo and mentioned the Wolves were on their way to end the Widows.”