Read the Prologue of "Kept from You"

Kept from You
Published by Nashoda Rose
Copyright © 2017 by Nashoda Rose

PROLOGUE

Toronto

A FIST SLAMMED into the metal locker beside my head and my math book cradled in my arms slipped and fell to the floor with a loud clunk.
I sucked in a mouthful of air and froze.
The fist belonged to Killian Kane.
The Killian Kane.
Rumor was he’d been suspended from school numerous times for fighting, and the only reason he hadn’t been expelled was his father donated a lot of money to the school.
And yeah, I was scared of him. You’d be stupid not to be.
Thankfully his fist indenting the locker wasn’t to get my attention; it was to get Josh Clery’s at-tention—the guy who unfortunately had the locker beside me.
“Ki… te,” Josh stuttered as he turned around, his face pale, hands at half-mast.
Killian’s nickname was Kite. And at first thought, the word conjured a beautiful kite flying through the air in a gentle wind.
This was not the origin of his nickname. Far from it.
Because the word Kite also meant “to prey on others.” And Killian lived up to that nickname. Although in his defense, he did it sort of fairly.
He fought the older kids who bullied the younger ones. He banned wedgies after some kid was found in the changing room hanging on the wall hook by his underwear.
If Killian heard about shit like that, he dealt with it.
Often that meant dealing with kids older and bigger than him.
He was fearless, and there was a part of me that was awestruck by him because nothing de-terred him from his purpose.
Unwavering.
Unbending.
My perception of a Greek god was pretty much Killian. One of the god’s who had a temper and knew how much power he wielded and used it.
He was good looking, but that wasn’t what made him attractive. It was how he drew you into him like a string on a marionette with his steady green eyes.
I’d never spoken to him, and he’d never said a word to me, which was a good thing since no one wanted Killian Kane’s attention.
Although, on a few occasions when I saw him in the hallways, I swore he watched me. And when our eyes would lock briefly, he always looked away while I’d lower my head and walk away as fast as I could with my heart racing and legs quivering.
He did that to me, made me breathless, which wasn’t a good thing.

Read More: http://nashodarose.com/index.php/prol...