Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“You’re still doing it,” she reprimands.
“I’m not doing anything,” I grit out, my leather-covered hands gripping tightly around the wheel. “I want to make tonight quick, though.”
She smirks and angles herself toward me. “Do you have a curfew now?”
“No. I just want to be there to pick her up.”
“No hours of torture, then?”
I lick my lips, wanting to ask her but not at the same time. What if she despises what I say. Then again, my sister and I have only ever had each other. For the most part, we’re honest with each other.
“Do you still enjoy killing as much?” I ask.
Her gaze lands on me. It almost feels like a taboo question to ask. It’s all we’ve known. But knowing that Lena doesn’t approve, I’ve found I don’t take as much satisfaction in it anymore. I still do it unflinchingly for our money and empire. But it’s not the same as before I met her.
“Do you mean since I met River?”
“Yes.”
She’s studying me now, awkward in her own honesty. Because this type of talk is dangerous. But not with my sister.
“No. I do it because it’s necessary. I take pleasure if they’ve personally offended me, but I’d much rather have River massage my feet when I get home.”
“He massages your feet?” I ask in surprise.
“You repeat it, and either River or I will kill you,” she says ruthlessly, and I chuckle.
“We cannot change the role we play, Alek. We own this city,” she reminds me, not that I need it.
“But it doesn’t mean we can’t grow ever slightly. Even for stunted orphans like us that’s possible.”
I eye her, taking in her words. Because for Lena, I want to grow. Shield her from this side of my work as she comes to terms with it. River and Anya are as crazy as each other. But Lena… If she saw the gore I often deal in, she’d hide from me, terrified.
“You really care for her, don’t you? It’ll be harder for you to keep a low profile as she rises further in her fame. Are you okay with that?”
“I’ll do whatever is required of me to stay by her side.”
A mischievous light flashes in Anya’s eyes as she says, “You’ve become soft.”
“And you haven’t?”
She’s smiling as I say it, and silently we know this is the only time we’ll probably have this discussion. We’re checking on one another to see if, in some small way, we’ve found happiness.
Something we were never entitled to but seems we both secretly wanted.
“Shall we use knives or guns this evening?” she asks, putting an end to the personal talk.
I look at the time. “Guns would be more efficient. But I think we always have time to use knives. Wouldn’t want your blade going rusty, would we?”
She smiles at that, satisfied.
I mean, we aren’t turning into fucking saints.
CHAPTER 45
Lena
Isnuggle into bed, exhausted after my first week of performances. I’m waiting for Alek to get back from getting us breakfast. I don’t expect him to cook me breakfast, because I’m certain the only thing he’s touched in a kitchen is a knife, and not for the good reasons. It’s just that my favorite bagel place down the street doesn’t deliver. And when I told him I was going to walk down the street, wearing my short pj’s, he was suddenly dressed and rushing out the door because he didn’t want anyone else to see what’s his.
I smile thinking about that. I yawn and am startled by a knock on the door. My eyebrows furrow. I doubt Alek would ever forget anything, let alone his keys.
I walk to the door and my heart sinks as hear my mother on the other side. Fuck.
“Maybe she’s not here,” she says.
“Archer said she should be home this weekend,” my father replies.
I glance around my apartment, making sure Alek and I haven’t left out any of our toys that I’ve recently come to love.
I open the door with fake enthusiasm. “Mom. Dad. What are you doing here?”
My mother looks me up and down. I’m wearing a crop top and booty shorts.
“Why are you dressed like that?” she asks disapprovingly.
“I was sleeping,” I tell her.
“It’s the middle of the day,” my father says.
“I work nights, did you forget?” I leave the door open and turn to walk into the living room. “Why are you here? I didn’t know you were in town. Archer isn’t here anymore, is he?”
His contract at the hospital was only for a month, and he called me the day he was leaving.
“Well, you haven’t been answering my calls lately,” my mother says, rather disgruntled. “And your brother sent us something interesting, so we wanted to check it out ourselves.”
She pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of myself standing in front of the cast of the new show. “We were walking Times Square to find this. Honey, this is huge.”