Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
The flex in Angel’s jaw tells me he’s just as surprised about the turn of events as I am.
“That’s not his name?” Nash asks, confused.
Angel and I both scoff at his realization.
“Wait,” he snaps. “You guys aren’t using your real names either, are you?”
Lauren rolls her eyes.
Nash looks directly at me. “You actually picked Hollis? Who the fuck would pick a name like that? Of all the fucking names and you—”
“What do you know about the guy?” I ask Angel, ignoring Nash.
Angel doesn’t say a word, and despite Lauren looking like she wants to speak, she takes his lead and remains silent.
“I wouldn’t give anyone your information either,” Angel says eventually.
I’d argue that he only knows what I gave him, but the look in his eyes tells me that may not be accurate.
“I’m more concerned about who the fuck you think you are. I send you out for a job, and instead of doing what you’re hired to do, you take that fucking girl for yourself. How long have you had her? How far have you fucking taken things with her?”
The only thing that stops Angel from ripping my head off is Lauren’s hand to his chest. She leans closer, pressing her mouth to his ear.
I have no idea what she says to the man, but he stops inching forward. He doesn’t seem satisfied, but he’s not looking like a murder is going to take place in the next five minutes either.
“I will not be lied to, ever,” Angel says. “You’re fucking fired.”
I stare at him as if he’s suddenly grown two heads. Fired? Like he’s some legit boss in the first fucking place.
Without a word, I turn around and fucking leave the office. What’s one more fucking bridge burned? I’ve been setting the motherfuckers on fire since I was a teen. Angel Guerra makes no fucking difference in my life. He certainly isn’t the only asshole that can offer me work.
Mads left the keys in the ignition when we arrived so I climb inside my truck and head back to the shitty little house that has been mine and Madelene’s sanctuary for the last couple of weeks.
It seems emptier without her here, but this place was never home to begin with.
The sun starts to set, and with the absence of light inside, the walls seem to close in on me. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and head to the back porch.
My lip twitches at the sight of Nash sitting in the fucking rocking chair.
“You’re looking for an ass beating.”
“You’re the one who promised me one.”
Nash doesn’t flinch once when I step in front of him and punch him in the fucking mouth. I expect the man to explode out of the chair, but all he does is smile up at me, his perfect white teeth painted red from his busted lip.
It’s a sinister look, one that doesn’t match his normally chatty, carefree personality. It makes me wonder just how much of himself he’s been hiding. We all have a lifetime of secrets we’d never reveal.
“I’ll split the fee with you if you help me take out that big bastard Donavan,” he says.
I fucking hit him again for having the nerve to think for a second I ever had any intention of turning Madelene over to her father to collect the money.
His laughter sounds maniacal. “That’s what I thought. You fucking care for her.”
I can’t fucking deny it, so I keep my mouth closed, taking a seat on the damn porch stairs.
“I don’t know what kind of kinky shit the two of you are into, but you may want to seek professional help. It looked violent as hell. Can’t be natural.”
I growl, feeling a little better when he holds his hands up near his ears. “Just my opinion.”
“Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
“I don’t think you want me to do that,” he says, his eyes narrowing, the moonlight catching on a glint of something hidden behind them.
I refuse to ask questions, knowing I’ll probably only get half-truths from the man. I know he’s here for a reason, and it’s not because he wanted the fight I promised back at the office.
“I overheard a conversation between Donavan and Angel,” he says, unprompted like I hoped he would.
I turn my bottle of water up to my lips, keeping my eyes locked on the dry grass in the backyard. I want to ask, but so does he. I keep my lips tightly closed.
“He mentioned where he was staying while he was in town.”
My skin comes alive at the prospect that I could go find her, but if she wanted me, she would’ve stayed. She would’ve been much harder to pull out of that office than she was.
Now that I’ve settled some, I know she was surprised to see her brother standing there. She thought all this time that he was dead. The way she reacted proved it.