A sociopath, Alistair Creed, has sworn to get revenge for the wrongs that have been done to him, but things get complicated when he entertains his infatuation with his enemies' daughter.
Can he work past his guilt for the mistakes he has made or wil...
I rolled over on the black couch, seeking a cool portion of its leather, but my head throbbed when the light hit my eyes through the French doors. The ice pack I had was now melted on the floor; a heavy sigh left my mouth at the thought of getting a new one.
I knew I would regret going to sleep, as resting tends to make physical symptoms more apparent. At the time, it seemed like a good idea, since my concentration was okay and my balance was mostly unaffected. I needed to stop feeling sorry for myself regardless of how shitty I felt now. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle.
I felt my ass vibrate and reached up to fish through the back pocket of my jeans. After pulling out Melody's phone, I could tell how trusting she was when it unlocked without a hitch. I suppose she didn't anticipate there would be someone like me in her life, but I didn't plan on leaking her nudes or posting something that would get her scholarships stripped away. My curiosity just got the best of me and to my surprise, it was a Snapchat message from her friend, Jacky.
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I shifted my attention to her text messages and discovered why her parents weren't worried about her.
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With Alice under the impression that Melody was staying with a trusted friend and Jacky thinking she was getting dick, I slid the phone back into my pocket to give my eyes a rest.
I was smiling to myself, thinking of Jacky's messages, when I heard someone pound on the front door. I groaned as I lifted my head to look in the direction of the sound, contemplating if I could even stand. Depending on who it was, finding out wouldn't be worth the effort. Hell, for all I knew it was Daniel, but I couldn't give in to perturbation—that boat had already sailed.
Eventually, the person started pounding with such intensity that I thought it would alarm the neighbors. I forced myself up, feeling as though a twenty pound dumbbell was attached to my head, and went to open the door. On the other side of the screen I found my best friend, Ben Garrison, with panicked eyes.
"Hey," I whined after realizing it was him.
"Hey yourself. We need to talk," he huffed through dry, parted lips.
