Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24355 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“I got you. I’ll keep it quiet.”
“Good.”
I disconnect the call, drop my phone onto the seat next to me, and shake my head. Just as one piece of my life starts getting better, the rest of my world is thrown into chaos. The real bitch of it all is that I don’t really care about this side of my life. I’m done with it and want to find a way out. But not like this. I’m not going to turn everything I’ve worked as hard as I have to get over to a couple of fucking clowns like Rico and Dawson. Over my dead fucking body.
“Fuck!” I shout as I slam my fist into the door.
12
TABITHA
After a long, hot shower, I get out and towel off, then pull on a pair of black yoga pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a thick pair of socks. Once dressed, I pick up my phone and frown. Tyson hasn’t responded to my last couple of texts, which is unlike him. He normally gets back to me pretty quickly. It shames me to admit, but I’ve gotten used to it. Not hearing from him has me a little worried. I don’t know if something’s happened to him or if I’m just starting to be too needy, and he’s getting tired of me.
I shake my head as I look down at my phone. I promised myself I wouldn’t let myself get too wrapped up in Tyson. That because of who he was and what he did, I couldn’t afford to. He has told me his plans of getting out of the life and going legit, but it almost comes across as the married man telling his side piece that he’s going to divorce his wife for her. I want to believe he’s sincere. Part of me thinks he really believes it. But until he actually starts making moves to get out of the life, I don’t want to let myself believe that he’s going to do it.
The whole time I’ve been hanging out with him, I’ve tried to tell myself this is all just for fun. That all I’m doing is having a good time and enjoying myself. And I do genuinely enjoy spending time with Tyson. He’s unlike what I expected him to be that first night I met him in what seems like another lifetime. Underneath all his bluster and bravado, he’s a good man with a good heart. If I had a list of things I wanted in a man, I have no doubt he would check off all the boxes. If he weren’t who and what he is, I would want to be with him.
Who am I kidding? Even knowing who and what he is, I want to be with him anyway. Deep down, I know he’s opened my heart in ways I never expected and has rushed in to fill all those spaces that have been empty for so long. My life has been nothing but school and planning for my future for so long, but once Tyson came storming in, he turned my world completely upside down and made me see things differently.
Now, as I look at my unanswered text messages, I want to slap myself for thinking we could be more than what we are. For thinking there is a world where a criminal kingpin and a nursing student can have a normal, healthy, loving relationship. For thinking we can have the relationship I’ve dreamed about since I was younger. It was naïve and foolish. I see that now. But for a little while, it was nice pretending we could be something different.
My heart feeling a little heavy and a dark cloud of emotion hovering over me, I walk through my apartment, making sure everything is locked up and turning off the lights as I get ready for bed, following my nightly routine. I was hoping to see Tyson tonight, and it’s depressing to know I’ll be going to bed alone instead.
“You’re an idiot,” I mutter to myself.
After making sure my apartment is all buttoned up, I climb into bed, pull the covers up to my chin, and lie there staring at the ceiling. I already know sleep is not going to come easily tonight. I blow out a long, loud breath and close my eyes, trying to force myself to go to sleep. It feels like hours have passed, but when I glance at my clock, I see it’s been about ten minutes. Somebody knocks on my door, and my heart leaps into my throat as an excited smile crosses my face. Throwing the covers back, I jump out of bed and dash through the apartment.
I unlock the door and pull it open. “Why didn’t you text me—”
The words die on my lips when I see it’s not Tyson standing there but two men I don’t know. They’re both a few years older than me, with dark hair and brown eyes. Other than one being about six feet tall and the other just five-nine or so, they look a lot alike. There’s something about them that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and sends cold goosebumps rushing across my skin. Something familiar, though I can’t quite place it. Whatever it is, I instantly don’t like them, nor do I feel safe.