Hunting Angel 2

Hunting Angel 2 by J. L. Weil Page A

Book: Hunting Angel 2 by J. L. Weil Read Free Book Online
Authors: J. L. Weil
ride back to my house seemed to take hours. I was numb. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed, pull down the blinds, and wallow in self-pity. But the longer he was gone, the stronger the pounding of anxiety knocked in my chest.
    My bed was the only thing on my mind when I walked through the front door. I hit the silver comforter like a sobbing hot mess. The tears couldn’t be repressed any longer, and I needed to let go of all the hurt building inside me. It was like a flood of raw emotion.
    Alone, I shut myself off from the world. I shut myself off from him . Ignored the phone calls. Dismissed the text messages. But as long as he was gone, my body wouldn’t give into the sleep I desperately wanted. Sleep – the one chance to flee from the ache.
    I watched the clock above my door, as the little hand clicked and clicked in slow motion around in a circle. The room darkened with nightfall, while I lay curled into a ball, wishing this connection between us was severed. Then on a sharp intake of air, I opened my eyes and the anxiousness was gone. Every muscle in my body relaxed, losing the tension that seemed to have increased with each passing minute.
    Shitbrick was home.
    What I wanted to do was get up, stomp across his yard, karate chop the door, and give him the lashing of the decade. However my worn body had other plans, lashes fluttered close as I pulled the covers to my chin and promptly fell in a deep slumber.
    Tomorrow would be another matter entirely.
    I was up at the crack of dawn, something that was completely unheard of, but the little sleep I’d gotten had been sound. It might have been completely naïve of me, but I had almost hoped that when I awoke, this gut-retching hurt would be gone.
    It wasn’t.
    Bracing myself on the bathroom sink, I groaned in horror at the sight that stared back at me. I looked like I’d been ravished by a zombie. And these puffy, red, and swollen eyes weren’t going to miraculous vanish.
    I cursed him a thousand different ways standing there in the middle of the bathroom mirror before I decided that I wasn’t going to let him see my pain. If it killed me, I was going to look fabulous. Nothing a shower, two frozen spoons, and some heavy makeup couldn’t fix.
    Or so I prayed.
    After a long, steaming hot shower, I plodded to my closet. Tearing open the doors, I started to rummage through my clothes like a woman on a mission. Then I realized my wardrobe sucked some serious ass. That was all it took for a wave of heartache to bombard me again. I slid down the wall and put my head on my knees. Wet hair fell over my shoulders.
    I needed to be stronger than this. It wasn’t like we had a commitment to each other, but tell that to my bleeding heart. Why was what we had between us, so complex? I deserved better. I deserved respect and honesty. I picked myself off the floor with renewed determination.
    I was one of the first to arrive at school, leaving before Chase had a chance to catch me. It would be impossible to not run into him, but snubbing was another matter entirely. And that was just what I had done. However, chem class was unavoidable and the few others we now had together thanks to his demon persuasion.
    At the first whisper of his breath against my neck I nearly hit the class ceiling. “The silent treatment. Really Angel? I thought you were more creative than that.”
    “Shocking. I always thought you were a douchebag. Now I know you are.” So much for biting my tongue.
    “Angel Eyes it’s not what it seems.”
    “Don’t. Call. Me. That.” I gritted my teeth.
    “Meet me at my house, after school. I’ll prove it.” The end of his pencil outlined a pattern on the back of my shirt.
    As if . Even as the thought fluttered in my head, I couldn’t suppress the shudder that tore through me. Damn him . Leaning forward on my desk, I tried to stay out of his reach.
    He chuckled under his breath.
    I wanted to jam that pencil down his throat. He wouldn’t be chuckling

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