King of Denial : An Academy Bully Romance (Boys of Almadale Book 3) by Jacie Lennon

Author:Jacie Lennon [Lennon, Jacie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-28T16:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I wake, still in my torn white dress and half-hanging off the window seat. My back aches from the position I slept in, and my eyes are puffy and bleary from crying. My head pounds, and my mouth tastes like cotton as I rise to a sitting position.

I glance around my room, and my chest aches as the night comes crashing back over me. It’s Sunday. I’m expected to return to school tomorrow, and I’m not sure how I’m going to stomach it. Being in the same area as Bodhi, seeing him and the hate in his eyes, it might break me.

You only have a month and a half left, I remind myself as I push to stand.

I’ve got to get out of this dress and into the shower. I need to clean the despair off of my body.

I freeze as the knob to my room turns and opens. A head comes into view, one I don’t recognize. A man looks me up and down and then focuses on my face.

“Good, you are awake. Your parents want to see you as soon as possible.”

“Who are you?” I glance down quickly to make sure all of me is covered before looking back at him. I’ve never seen him before; I’m sure of it. To my knowledge, he’s not one of Seth’s friends.

“Your new bodyguard,” he says.

I shake my head, sure I didn’t hear him correctly. “What?”

Why do I need a bodyguard?

“Your parents are in the dining room, having breakfast.” He doesn’t bother to answer my question, and I watch him step back out into the hallway and shut the door.

Am I in danger? Will he go back to Almadale with me?

I hurriedly unzip my dress and step out of it. I cross to my bag and find some leggings, which I hastily stick my legs into. I pull out a long, bulky sweater and slip it over my top half. I step into the bathroom and use the toilet before glancing at myself in the mirror. My mascara is in streaks, and I take a washcloth, wet it, and scrub. It makes my skin red, and that, paired with the puffy eyes, is a scary look.

When I cross to the door and pull it open, I’m not surprised to see new bodyguard boy standing there. He doesn’t even look at me but remains alert, and I sweep past him. He follows me down the hallway and stairs, and I expect him to enter the dining room with me, but he stops at the door as I breeze through it.

I must not be in any danger from my parents, I think with an eye roll.

“Really? A bodyguard?” I slide into the chair across from my mother, who is on the left of my father, who predictably always sits at the head of the table. There is a spread of breakfast food before us, and I grab a croissant and place it on my plate. But I’m not hungry. I stare down at it.

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