Victoria Navitski's already messed up life turned sideways after the death of a close family member. Now, not only does she need to protect herself from the attacks of revenge seekers, but gang members too.
She enters the world of drugs, revenge se...
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“Bad Girls Have Bad Secrets.”
The Thirtieth Secret — Capture of The Falcon
When Logan returned, I was tracing my fingers over his books, trying to distract myself from thinking too much by reading their titles. My eyes flickered to him and I touched a hand to one of his notebooks. "What are these?"
"Death Notes," he mumbled.
"What?"
He smiled, "I'm joking. They're just uh—" He fiddled with the corner of his lip, a nervous habit of his, "Stuff I write."
"Stories?"
"Mostly poems."
I smiled, eyes flickering back to his shelf. He had so many. "I didn't know you wrote poetry— or were into it at all. I love reading poetry."
He grinned, walking closer toward me, "Really?"
"Yeah, can I read these?" I lifted the book out, but as soon as I did, he snatched it from me, wrinkling his nose.
"Not this one," he said.
"Why?"
He chuckled quietly, "I'm not very comfortable with anyone reading my writings, really — but you can —"
"But not that one?"
He nodded.
"Why?" I arched a single brow, "Is it dirty things?"
He began to laugh, covering his mouth with the notebook as a blush covered his cheeks, "No."
My other eyebrow joined the raised one.
"Honestly." His blush was adorable and he touched the back of his neck, "This ones just um, well.. I'll show you some day."
"Okay."
I picked out another book and sat down on the bed while Logan watched me nervously as I opened it up. I delved into it, getting lost in the pages of pretty words and deep meanings behind his little sentences to page long writings and only looked up again when I was done. Logan had lied down aside me and after waiting patiently, he had began to play with the strands of my hair splayed across his bed, braiding them at random. He tugged on a chunk when I closed the book gently, splaying my fingers across the pages I suddenly felt attached to.
