Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121990 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
To make his point even clearer, he laid on the bed and pulled the comforter over his clothed body. Because no way in hell was he undressing in front of that worm!
Roach downed the rest of his drink, and the unmistakable rush of alcohol flooded Zane moments later. It had to be the proximity that made whatever was between them stronger because he hadn't experienced anything as intense in the past two years.
“You’re staying? Here?”
Zane didn’t understand what was so confusing, because he’d stated his intention clearly.
“Where else would I go?” he barked and pulled the comforter all the way to his neck.
The fucking thing smelled of caramel and tobacco, and he shut his eyes, diving his hands underneath to pull off his belt, because the large belt buckle pressed into his swollen flesh too hard.
Roach shook his head. “This is so fucked up. Are you not scared I’ll kill you for literally murdering my whole club?”
Zane swallowed, but that was okay, because Roach couldn’t see it. “If you wanted to die, you’d have shot yourself in the head a long time ago.”
Roach looked as if he wanted to say something but finally shut up and didn’t even fight Zane for his own bed. He laid on the floor where he belonged.
Chapter 6 – Roach
“Do I look like I care about your problems? I’ve got some shit to deal with here!”
Roach woke to Zane yelling something just outside the door. His body ached from sleeping on the floor and the racket wasn’t helping. He pulled up the blanket, but the cut on his stomach was definitely there, so he hadn’t been tripping on acid. At one point in his life, he’d thought being bound to Zane would’ve been his dream come true, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.
A man’s voice, low and thick with anger, answered. “It’s one thing to walk off to fuck some rando, but to turn your back on us like this? What is wrong with you?”
“Don’t pretend we’re some happy family. We just teamed up to play because it was convenient. You and I both know my voice and looks are earning us the most money. But I’m not gonna just—”
Someone hit the door, and Roach sat up at the sudden pain in his jaw. And he was supposedly the one who couldn’t take care of himself?
“I really liked you!” another man yelled while sobbing.
Zane groaned loudly enough for Roach to hear through the door. “It was fun, Callum, but it’s time to move on. I’m not a relationship ty—”
Someone hit Zane again, and this time Roach rose, rubbing his face to wake up. Enough was enough.
“It’s my brother you’re talking to, you piece of trash!” the other man said.
Roach moved with a vengeance, unwilling to wait for Zane to earn himself another smack in the face. If he was getting one more, it would be from Roach. He grabbed the gun off the floor and opened the door just as Zane lunged at a plump guy with long red hair, whom he’d seen on stage last night.
“The hell is this? Shut the fuck up all of you!” Roach grabbed Zane’s T-shirt and forced him back as if it were a leash.
The other guy, a short twenty-something who’d played the drums at Tony’s took a step back, raising his hands. There were tears in his eyes, which made him instantly recognizable as ‘Callum’. Who named their kids like that?
The redhead balled his hands into fists, but his gaze zeroed in on the firearm, which stopped him from acting out further. “It’s none of your business! This is a… private conversation.”
“Shouting outside my door is hardly ‘private’.”
Zane shook his head, and a strand of his damp hair smacked Roach in the bare chest. It felt like a lick, all too close to the nipple. “There’s nothing left to discuss. Give me my stuff, and my cut of the cash left for running costs, and you’re free to follow your dream of fame. L.A. is still far away.”
Callum rubbed his cheek. “Don’t do this!”
But the redhead growled, scattering his attention between Zane and the gun. “If you’re not in the parking lot in ten minutes, we’re leaving without you.”
Zane looked over his shoulder, but while fire burned in his gaze, scorching the dusky skin around his eyes, it wasn’t because of hate this time, and Roach found himself staring back.
“Let’s go get my stuff, hm?” Zane asked in a sexy voice that was almost a whisper, the back of his hand ghosting just off Roach’s flesh.
Roach exhaled. Since when was he Zane’s mule? But he nodded, in the hope of getting all of this over with faster. He went back in to grab a hoodie, and they were off, Roach ending the sad procession.
“Is he an ex?” he heard Callum whine at Zane.