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What is Romance?


Reading books RomanceReading books romantic stories you will plunge into the world of feelings and love. Most of the time the story ends happily. Very interesting and informative to read books historical romance novels to feel the atmosphere of that time.
In this genre the characters can be both real historical figures and the author's imagination. Thanks to such historical romantic novels, you can see another era through the eyes of eyewitnesses.
Critics will say that romance is too predictable. That if you know how it ends, there’s no point in reading it. Sorry, but no. It’s okay to choose between genres to get what you need from your books. But in romance the happy ending is a feature.It’s so romantic to describe the scene when you have found your True Love like in “fairytale love story.”




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Read books online » Romance » Jail Bird. by Em. Z. (good book recommendations .TXT) 📖

Book online «Jail Bird. by Em. Z. (good book recommendations .TXT) 📖». Author Em. Z.



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into the room.

I pouted, taking a step back to lean on the counter. Logan would do what he wanted to do. He was stubborn like that. "I reccomend you look at her hip." He said.

Victor raised a confused eyebrow at his brother, but Logan just crossed his arms, leaning on the island across from me.

"It's really not that bad," I said, my voice almost pleading, as he took a step toward me.

"What is not that bad?" He asked me.

I bit my lip, looking away from him.

He stood in front of me, gently grasping my shirt and pulling it up. His knuckles grazed my side accidentally, and I shivered. Damn it, I really needed to stop reacting how I did to him.

He sucked in a breath, touching the scar with his finger, but quickly retracting it when I flinched in pain. "Jane...why didn't you tell me?" He asked, his eyes hardening.

"It's not that bad!" I answered, crossing my arms, "Besides, I can take care of myself."

"It's not that bad? This is not that bad?" His voice rose as he repeated what I said in disbelief. "Jane, it could be infected! Do you realize how stupid that is? You didn't tell me about a wound that he...that bastard..." He couldn't finish. His hand that had lifted my shirt was now tightened into a fist, as his chest heaved with anger.

I gave Logan a see what you did? Look and sighed heavily. "Look. I don't appreciate getting yelled at by the baby-sitting bregade, alright? I took care of it. It's no big deal. This isn't my first rodeo." I rolled my eyes.

Victor suddenly gripped my shoulders, shaking me with each word he spat, "You could have died! Do you not understand the danger you put yourself in when you go to a completely different state five hours away from any help? Do you not have any sense of self preservation?"

"I understood it completely dickwad!" I yelled back, jerking from his hold. "I understood that I would most likely die yesterday, and I accepted it! Self preservation doesn't even matter when your own family is threatened! I couldn't think about the consequences of going alone because I had no choice!"

He took a step away from me, shock taking hold of his features. I'd just admitted that I went to California to die. I didn't care that I'd hurt him. I didn't care that my entire family just heard my confession, I was livid. I didn't like being man-handled, and I didn't like being yelled at. My only defense against that kind of thing was anger and, you guessed it, rebellion.

I ran my hands through my hair, storming past them both. It's not that I wanted to die, it's just that...I accepted the outcome. I had to get out of there before I said something really stupid. 

Oh wait.

Okay, I had to get out of there before I said something else stupid.

Arguments, with me, it was always fight, and then flight. I would dramatically sweep out of the house, not to be seen again except on TV, in a highspeed chase or footage of me stealing candy from a convenience store. The stealing thing was only when I was really upset, though. Today, I was only upset at myself. I jogged down the beach, tears filling my eyes at the hurt, and pained look on Victor's face. I didn't want to feel like this, but as my anger at them subsided, my anger at myself grew. How could I just...say that? Was my Don't-Say-This-Filter completely gone?

Better yet, what the hell was I thinking when I said it? Was I trying to prove something? Ha! I've proved something alright. I've proved that I'm still the reckless, non-thinking teenager I was.

You'd think I would have grown up by now.

I got to the Bay in five minutes, due to the speed in which I was running. The crowded dock helped me clear my thoughts, as I walked amongst hundreds of people. There was a surfing event going on, I could tell, since the Bay was covered in shirtless guys carrying around surf-boards.

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, plopping myself down on a bench next to an old guy who looked to be people watching, and  had cotton candy in his hand. "'sup?" I asked him casually.

He shrugged, taking a bite of his candy. "Life."

This was my kind of dude. He wasn't creeperish, and he was happy.

"Yeah, life's pretty good." I muttered, not really believing myself.

We watched people pass in silence for a few moments.

"I'm guessing life isn't very up for you, is it?" He asked.

I gave a sarcastic smile. "Nah. Life sucks right now."

He chuckled. "It always does at some point."

"Man, you got that right." I held out my hand, and he gave me a low five.

I could get along with this guy.

"I'm Jane Harison by the way."

"Ronnie Pace." He nodded at me.

***

Ten minutes later, we were in a deep, philasophical discussion.

"Have you even tried the swirled cotton candy? It's so much better than regular." I argued.

He shook his head in disagreement. "It clashes too much. The two flavors don't mix." He said.

I crossed my arms. "I still think you're wrong, but I'm going to let you have your own opinion." I said.

He chuckled. "Thanks."

"So, onto our next subject of discussion, why aren't you, like, some baddass mambajamba dude that everyone loves?" I asked.

He laughed boisterously. "Because I'm old, and old people are automatically seen as either really grumpy people who wear diapers, or overly happy people who sing your praises when you hold the door open for them. No one wants to get to know the grumpy old man who sits on a bench every day." He said.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Dude, you are the coolest of the cool, though. You share my beliefs that candy is a God that we must worship!" I exclaimed.

He smiled. "Yeah, well you're not so bad yourself, kid. Why aren't you the baddass mambajamba girl that everyone loves?"

I grimaced. "Most people don't want to know me. Mostly because I've been in jail more times than most young girls. Don't get me wrong, I haven't killed, or done drugs or anything like that. It's mostly drunk driving, thievery, and..." I grimaced, "Grand theft auto."

To my surprise, he laughed. "I knew there was something different about you. You have that "I do what I want," vibe."

"Yeah. It's something I got from my Dad."

"He must be a real charmer." He nudged me.

I laughed out loud at this. "Yeah, he's a real hoot."

Ronnie was about to say something else, when he was cut off.

"Jane, there you are." I looked up, finding Victor's relieved face.

"Oh...hi, Victor." I said.

Silence fell over all of us, as Ronnie seemed to realize Victor meant something to me. He gave me a knowing smile.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Victor asked finally.

I nodded. "Excuse me Ronnie." I said.

He gave me a small, encouraging smile.

I stood up, letting Victor take my hand and lead me away. He lead me toward the railing twenty feet away. When he stopped, we stood there awkwardly for a second. He opened his mouth, sucking in  a breath to say something, before closing it again. I sighed, leaning against the railing.

"Just spit it out, Victor. I'm a bitch, I'm stupid, I'm reckless, I'm immature-"

"I'm in love with you."

Mine.

 

"W-what?" I squeaked.

He ran a hand through his hair. "I mean...with what happened with Ike...almost losing you...having you in my arms became the best feeling in the world. I knew you were safe, I could feel your warmth, and the way you smiled at me...I realized it while we were on the plane, actually." He mused, smiling slightly...nervously. "When you fell asleep. I held your hand, and you whispered my name. As soon as my name left your unconscious lips...it clicked. My frustration at you, my fighting with you...it all fell into place. You don't just hate someone, Jane. Hate is the first step to love." He smiled sheepishly at his corny referance.

But it made sense. I knew what he meant...but how could I tell him I feel the same way?

I'd be putting him in danger. Ike is still out there. He's still waiting for me. I can't just forget about why I'm in Florida in the first place!

"Victor I..." I trailed off, unsure how to start.

"Yeah?" He asked, his eyes hopeful.

How could I put him in danger? If I really loved him, then I would let him go.

"I don't love you, Victor." I said, watching as his face fell. "I don't love you because I can't love you. I can't love you because...I just can't."

With that, I stalked past him, my fists clenched at my sides as I resisted turning and running back to where he stood. I wasn't going to put him in danger. I wasn't dragging another person into my messed up world. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I walked down the beach, and I desperately wiped them away. They kept coming, though. An endless stream, one tear after the other. 

The ten minutes it took to get to the summer home were spent in misery, and I didn't even go inside. I walked past it, down the beach. I didn't want to face my brother, and his betrayed, hurt eyes at my confession. I walked quite a ways, before my legs gave out, and I sat down hard on my knees.

Life sucks sometimes. Ha! Life sucks all the time.

I stared off at the ocean, having to blink the tears away. I knew I was going to get sunburned, but I couldn't seem to care. His face...so...humiliated, vulnerable...hurt. 

I couldn't get it out of my mind.

For fifteen minutes, the ocean did it's thing. rising up in a small wave, breaking upon the sand, and then flowing back to repeat the cycle. I think I got to one hundred times before I lost count.

"Why?"

I was startled by Victor's hard voice. I stood abruptly, turning to look at him.

"What?"

"Why are you lying to me?"

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "What?" I repeated.

How did he know I was lying? Better yet, why did he look so angry?

"Your eyebrow twitched upward, Jane. Why are you lying to me? Do you want to hurt me? Is that your plan in life? Do you have a little checklist that you read everyday? One: try to get myself killed. Two: Rip Victor's heart out and stomp on it." He was more than angry, he was livid.

I furrowed my eyebrows. "Victor, I-"

"No, just don't, Jane! I get it, you're ashamed to love the guy that threw you in jail. You're afraid it will tarnish your "bad girl" reputation." He yelled.

I took a step back, as if his words had pushed me. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, laughing without humor, an edge of disbelief in my voice.

"What else could it be, Jane?"

Okay, now I was more than livid. I was absolutely, bone deep, blood boiling, pissed. "I'm so glad I know how you think of me, Victor! I didn't just rush off on a five hour trip to die for my father!" I screamed, resisting the urge to choke him. "You're so jaded that you can't even see this for what it really is! Yes, I did lie. I did it

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