Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
She still looked suspicious. “What, then?”
“The offer still stands. I want you to play at the clubhouse. It’s a genuine offer. Six songs. Two hundred dollars.”
Her eyes widened, only for a split second, but long enough to let me know the offer was too good to refuse.
“Just six songs.” She looked at me dubiously. “For two hundred dollars?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
Her suspicions weren’t easily appeased. “And nothing else?”
Jesus, this girl really had the wrong impression of me.
“Nothing. Else.”
Finally, she held out her hand. “Six songs. Two hundred dollars, and you have yourself a deal.”
I shook her hand, and the moment my skin touched hers I felt a jolt run through me. I shook it off, just like I did when I kidded myself that I was helping her out because she looked like she needed a break. That was a lie. I didn’t know why I was doing this. Only that I wanted to.
I wrote down the address of the clubhouse on an old receipt she had in her bag. “I’ll make sure the guards on the gate know to expect you.”
“Guards? You don’t look like the type of guys who need guards,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Who says they’re for us?” I climbed on my bike and put on my sunglasses. “See you at seven.”
She smiled. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
I couldn’t help but smile back. “And California—try not to get yourself arrested between now and then.”
CASSIDY
Six songs. For two hundred dollars. It was a life-changing offer. Maybe not for some, but for me it meant Missy and I could get out of this shithole and catch a bus out of town.
Hope was as warm as the sunshine on my shoulders while I made my way through the sleepy streets. When the rundown dump I called home came into view, my stomach dipped and twisted, but not even the sight of the little house I hated so much could dampen my spirits. Things were looking up, thanks to a rather gorgeous biker named Chance.
I told him my name was Cassidy. It was almost the truth. I didn’t become Cassidy until I met my best friend, Missy, on a bus trip from Sacramento to Las Vegas two years earlier. She’d asked me my name over a shared bag of potato chips, and I’d been Cassidy ever since.
I wouldn’t tell her my real name.
I wouldn’t tell anyone.
Because that girl was dead.
She was dead the moment she ran away.
The little wooden gate creaked and whined as I pushed it open and made my way up the overgrown path to the front porch. For the first time in months I felt a ray of hope. I couldn’t wait to tell Missy what had happened. We could make plans and be somewhere else this time tomorrow.
Six songs. Two hundred dollars.
Inside, I dumped my guitar at the front door and headed for the bedroom I shared with Missy but stopped cold when I saw the door was slightly ajar. I had closed it. I always closed it. And I knew Missy was at work.
Cautiously, I pushed it open and stepped back in horror when my brain processed what the hell I was seeing.
Missy’s sleazy brother, Craig, was sitting on my bed, jerking off with a pair of my lace panties in his hand. Despite being startled, when he saw me, he gasped and his eyes went wide. In that god-awful moment he came all over his hand and my lace panties in pulsating white waves.
“What the hell are you doing!” I screamed, mortified and furious, fighting back the sudden rise of bile in my throat. Blood buzzed in my ears as rage and disgust collided inside of me. “Get out! Get out!”
Craig didn’t even bother pulling up his pants in his haste to get away. He leaped off my bed, his semi-flaccid cock dangling between his legs and my cum-soaked panties still in his hand as he fled the room.
I slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, my body suddenly racked with tears of rage and shock. I shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been acting weird around me ever since Missy and I moved in two months ago, always staring at me and making suggestive comments. After he’d walked in on me in the shower, I always kept the doors to the bathroom and my bedroom locked. Always.
I slid to the floor as the tears streamed down my cheeks. I felt sick. Disgusted.
Hope gone.
It was time to hit the road.
Again.
I cried until my inner strong girl rose to her feet and told me to pull myself together. This was nothing compared to what I’d already endured.
The sudden pounding on the door made me jump.
“Cassidy?”
It was Craig.
“Go away!” I yelled.
Knowing he was so close made the hair stand up on the back of my neck.