Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52639 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Yes, he hired me over the phone. The doors to all of the laundromats are on timers. Each place has a bathroom and janitor’s closet. The closet is secured with a doorknob that uses a code not a key. He gave me the code to get to supplies and a set of tasks. I completed them, put in my hours, and survived my first week in Crest. On Friday, Stone showed up to pay me. I saw the cut. Immediately I was on alert. They pay cash and didn’t ask me for anything other than my name.
My instincts said maybe this is a sign to stay in place. Everything fell into place easily.
Each facility has cameras that the Sinister Sons can access from their phones. While I’m sure they check in on things, no one has questioned my work. What started as me cleaning one has turned into me cleaning the three locations they own in the area.
Either someone called the number posted on the walls in each laundromat to report the water issues or one of the guys saw it on a random camera check. It doesn’t matter to me how they found it. I have work to do and this gives me overtime.
“I’ll go right over.” I begin moving around the small space of my hotel room to get my shoes.
“Thanks Emmalee. You might just be the best employee we have had since my sister Bristyl took off with her man.”
Before I can reply, he hangs up. The first couple of times he hung up without so much as a goodbye or fuck off irritated me. I kept taking it personally and turns out, it’s just Stone Daniels. His brothers aren’t what I would consider friendly, but they do have enough courtesy to say goodbye. As for his sister, I haven’t met her, yet.
Stone Daniels has two brothers and one baby sister. Only she’s not actually a baby. She’s a grown woman with a husband I hear. They say she lives in Georgia. If she has come to visit, I don’t know. I don’t involve myself with my boss, his family, or his club. I do my job, get paid, and fly under the radar as much as possible. Racer and Hunter are Stone’s brothers. They pop in and out like Stone. Sometimes they bring me the envelope with my weekly earnings’ other times it’s Stone. Never fails to be in my hand by noon every Friday and it’s always one of the Daniel’s actual brothers, not the club ones.
I’ve seen them ride in with the Sinister Sons to bring me my income, but my interaction has been with Stone and family only. I prefer it to be honest. While the Sons are intimidating, that isn’t my issue. As ridiculous as it is, my problem is I don’t want to engage with any man even in a casual conversation.
The man I want to talk to is back home wondering why I went from the Emmalee he knew and loved into a snotty bitch overnight. Okay, by now he’s done wondering. He’s probably as mad as a raging bull with me. I hate myself for hurting him like I did. And there isn’t a single man around me that will fill the Wesson size hole in my heart.
The Sinister Sons though, no one rides through here. Not even passing through. I don’t ever see another cut around anywhere. It’s always one of them.
To me, I have found safety.
They won’t let another club come in, nor will they let the likes of O’Leary come around either. Not because of some loyalty to me, they have no clue who I am, rather to keep control of the area. Which is good. The Sons need to stay in control.
Knowing I can go to work without having to completely watch my back every second gives me a peace I haven’t felt since leaving Haywood’s Landing. As long as I stick to their spots, I’m safe.
Not wanting Stone to feel the need to call a second time, I ready and rush out the door. This job is beneath anything I ever thought I would do.
My mom used to sign every birthday card to me: remember you are destined for greatness.
Once upon a time I believed it.
I wanted to cure cancer. Before things went straight to Hell, I applied to Duke University and got accepted as a transfer student. I have my associate’s in science degree. Funny, I couldn’t focus to write unless it was about the cellular and molecular function of something. And math, my goodness do I hate math. Outside of how much money do I have and how much am I going to spend, I didn’t care. Unless it was the formulas to create a chemical compound that would become medicine.
Goals. I had them.