Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126096 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Charles watches me for another second before his chin raises and the tension dissipates, and just like that, I'm off the hook. “Right,” he says, looking back to Harrison. “Get onto the surveillance and have it dealt with. I want it gone by the end of the day.”
Charles walks away and within seconds, Enrique scurries away. I go to leave too but Harrison steps into my way. “You have two choices,” he says, bearing down on me and not giving a shit that Colton is here watching him scold one of their house guests. “You can either clean it yourself or I can take the cost of paint out of your mother’s paycheck. What’s it going to be?”
Fuck.
“I’ll clean it.”
Harrison pulls his lips into a tight, smug line. “That’s what I thought.”
I roll my eyes and just as I go to throw shade back at him, he turns on his heel and scatters off, probably to go and make one of the staff cry. I let out a heavy sigh and after looking back at my masterpiece one more time, I cut across the lawn and head for the pool house.
I search in cupboards until I find a big bucket and fill it with warm soapy water then get something to scrub with. This isn’t exactly my first time scrubbing graffiti off a wall, but it’s the first time I’ve done it without a police officer breathing down my neck.
I haul the bucket around to the back of the house and as I turn the final corner, I find Colton sitting back in one of the sunbeds from the pool with his feet up and beer in hand. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He winks but for once it does not affect me. “Came to watch the show. After all, if someone went to all the effort just to draw a picture of me, it’d be rude not to at least appreciate it while I can.”
“You’re an ass,” I grunt, walking up to the wall and dropping the bucket at my feet.
“And you’re a spoiled brat.”
“That’s rich coming from you. Tell me, how was the caviar that was served on your thirteenth birthday? Or what about the million-dollar deposit to your bank account that you received for your tenth?”
Colton narrows his eyes at me. “You know nothing about my life.”
“Look around you,” I say, waving my hand around the massive, luxurious property. “It’s certainly comfortable. You wouldn’t know how it feels to not be able to walk from one end of your street to the other without being shot at, or what about getting home at night to find the electricity and gas has been turned off. Do you know what it feels like to be hungry?”
Colton’s eyes drop away and just like that, he gets it, but he’ll never understand it. Not unless it’s something he experiences for himself, but he won't. He'll never have to.
Getting nothing from him, I dunk my scrubbing brush into the water and get to work. I try to ignore his presence at my back but it’s impossible. Why is he there? Is he just bored and wants to chill out? Maybe he’s lonely in this big house and has no one to talk to, but if he felt like that, he could hang out with one of his friends. I don’t understand him and it’s driving me insane.
When it gets too much, I look back over my shoulder to find him watching me. “Why are you here, Colton?” I ask quietly, letting him know the fight is gone.
His eyes trail up my body to meet mine and I watch as confusion flickers across his face. “Honestly, I’ve got no fucking idea.”
I nod and dunk the scrubber back into the water, feeling just as confused as he looks. “Okay, then. Why did you cover for me with your dad before? You could have thrown me under the bus and told him that I stole your credit card.”
“But you didn’t steal my credit card. You stole my fucking Veneno. You came to me, you asked for what you wanted, I gave it to you and I let you walk away without putting any limitations on you. That’s on me. You could have spent whatever you wanted and it would have been on me. You shouldn’t get in trouble for something that I allowed to happen, though if you touch my fucking car again, I’ll end you.”
I keep my focus on the wall, positive that if I actually looked at him, he’ll shut down and I won't get another word out of him. “Speaking of things that you allowed to happen,” I say, skipping over the whole ‘I’ll end you’ comment because we both know that I’ll always win. “Why didn’t you do something at school?”