Avenging Angel: Pounding Hearts by Sweet Izzy & Moriarty Sean

Author:Sweet, Izzy & Moriarty, Sean
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dirty Nothings Publishing
Published: 2020-01-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Bree

Sometimes in life there are decisions that you know right away are bad decisions. Decisions that will fuck your life up and have long lasting consequences.

Going out with Emmett tonight definitely feels like one of those fuck-my-life-up bad decisions.

Staring at the mess of clothes on my bedroom floor, I wonder what the hell I’m doing.

Am I a sucker for punishment?

With all the other shit going on, why am I doing this to myself?

Casey’s pleading face flashes in front of my eyes as a reminder.

Oh yeah, for Casey…

But is it really only for him? Or deep down, do I want this to be more?

Do I want this to be the start of… something?

Turning to the face the mirror hanging on the back of my door, I tug at the skirt of the little blue sundress I have on.

Ugh, it’s too cute, and makes it look like I’m treating this like a date. And it’s totally not a date…

Ripping the dress off and tossing it to the side, I stomp over to my closet and push my hangers around. I have a wardrobe that could put most girls my age to shame. Gucci, Prada, Chanel, Burberry… From my tops to my bottoms, it’s designer everything. But it’s all stuff bought with my father’s money, and the thought of wearing any of it out tonight doesn’t feel right.

It doesn’t feel like me.

With the time I have left before Emmett gets here ticking in my ears, I push myself through the mass of clothes to get to the back of my closet.

The only good thing about Emmett being able to track me through the find my friends app on my phone is that I can also track him. When I checked two minutes ago, he was ten minutes away.

Which means he’s eight minutes away now, and I still need to brush my teeth…

Shit.

Desperate to find something, I start to dig through a box full of clothes I haven’t worn since high school. As I pick through the pieces, memories threaten to distract me, memories of happier days, but I shove them away.

After sorting through a bunch of worn-out stuff that I bought at Target, back when that was all I could afford, I finally stumble across a black band shirt and tug it on. It’s a little tight in the boobs, but it still seems to fit. Knowing my ass won’t squeeze into any of my old jeans, I settle on wearing a pair of red running shorts I’d normally wear to the gym and push my way back of out of the closet.

Standing in front of the mirror again, I take myself in. I look casual, like I really don’t care, which is exactly the look I’m going for.

Yanking out my hair tie, I run my fingers through my hair until it falls down my shoulders.

Makeup or no makeup?

Peering at myself, at the dark bags appearing under my eyes, I decide no makeup. I don’t want to give even a hint that I’m trying.

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