Fractured (Josie) novel Chapter 109

Chapter 0109 

“Yes, kind of, I just know that if I really want something I can demand it and admits, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. 

people can’t deny my request,” she 

And have you demanded anything of Coner? Again, I suggest you don’t lie. I will be checking Just how much compulsion Coner has been subjected to later today,” I raise my brows at her. 

“Yes,” she says with a defeated huff. “That’s how I discovered I could do it. He spent months ignoring me, always running off to meet his girlfriend and dismissing my advances. One day I snapped and confronted him. He asked what I wanted from him and I told him I wanted him to want me more than he wanted his girlfriend. He had this dazed look for a second and then kissed me,” she shrugs. Confirming what I’d suspected since I’d discovered her power. It all made sense now. I couldn’t understand how Comer could have chosen this girl over Josie. She’s not a bad–looking girl but her attitude and personality leave a sour taste in my mouth. She’s not a patch on my little temptress. 

Noel arrives to collect Molly and I fully explain the situation to him, he agrees to spend time away from the academy training her and teaching her our ways. I feel like I can finally breathe again now she is out of my office. My relief is short–lived though when I check my phone and see that Mason has not responded. I know he’s probably in the midst of a wave of Josie’s heat but I get angsty nonetheless. I send him another message to let him know I’m picking up lunch for them all and to call me when it’s a safe time to bring the food. Then I leave the academy, having my driver take me far enough away from the acaderny that I’m out of the wards that block teleportation. I don my glasses and port to the human realm, into one of my father’s empty properties. I know there is a popular fast–food chain very close by that has featured in Josie’s dreams on more than one occasion When I walk inside I feel a little overwhelmed by the menu 

“Can I take your order, sir?” a pimple–faced teenage boy asks from behind the counter. 

“Yes, I have 10 students that I wanted to treat to lunch, what would you recommend?” I smile politely at the boy and he looks back at me seeming disinterested. 

“A few family buckets,” he shrugs. 

“Okay then I’ll take that, and two of each flavour of milkshake,” I nod.