Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Not a fucking chance.
Men like me aren't capable of love, and if we were, we'd easily destroy it because it makes us weak.
"Besides," I barter. "She isn't a part of whatever might be going on with Wilkinson."
"No?" He shakes his head, looking at me like he has a right to be disappointed in me. "Because you believe every word that has come out of her mouth?"
"She has no reason to lie to me."
I still never got to the bottom of why she was sobbing in my arms last night. There's definitely something going on with her, and I pray it isn't fucking guilt because she is somehow involved with criminal activities.
I still can't get the gun out of my head, and now I regret leaving it where I left it in her bedside table. I figured she might honestly need it for protection, but what if that's not the only reason she has it?
"No lies between you? She thinks your name is Owen Clark, remember? What you think you might have with her isn't real. You need to remember that, Hemlock. The entire thing is one big fucking lie."
He walks away before I can argue further. As the front door slams behind him, I realize, I don't have a leg to stand on. He told nothing but facts. I can't argue that she has no reason to lie when that's all I've been doing to her.
Despite the shower I took with Zara this morning, I still climb the stairs to my room, making sure to lock the door behind me before going into the bathroom and taking another one. I need the scent of her soap and her body off mine. I need to wash away every fucking reminder of her and get my shit together. There isn't a person on this earth worth the sacrifice of all the people I could save, and that includes Zara Hailey.
I don't think she's involved with Wilkinson past her working for him at the bar, but her existence in my life will only complicate things. I have to work. I have to help Ace and Cerberus track down and eradicate these sex trafficking rings, and I would never be able to do that and stay in any sort of relationship with her. She can't know about my job, and what woman would bother sticking around when questions can never be answered?
I scrub at my skin, knowing she's already more than skin deep. I have no doubt it's going to take a number of precision cuts to excise her from my body. I can only hope that after it's done, there's enough of me left that's capable of continuing this job.
Chapter 20
Zara
Expectations are a slippery slope.
More often than not, someone's expectations are something they formulated without regard to the person or situation involved.
I could argue that I didn't expect Owen to show his face ever again at The Lost Kitten, but I also didn't expect him the times before. Then he came sauntering in like he hadn't been gone for days and days.
Knowing it would be best for my heart if I never saw him again didn't keep me from expecting it to be him every time the damn door opened.
I give the young woman a smile as she looks around the bar before approaching me.
Edith is busy arguing with Jersey about why Sharon still isn't back with the kids, and I'm grateful the woman doesn't mind sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. I've worked every day since Christmas and the man is growing sappier and sappier by the damn day. Yet he still doesn't seem to even be attempting to be proactive in trying to put his family back together.
"Hi," the woman says, her eyes darting to the side when someone pulls out a bar stool causing the legs to make a god-awful screeching noise.
She seems a little scared, definitely not a local.
"I'm here to see Tommy."
I look her up and down. She can't be a day over seventeen.
"Do you have ID?" I ask her, watching as her smile fades away. "After six, it's twenty-one and up."
Her nose scrunches as she pulls a Minnesota license from her pocket, handing it over to me. I have no idea if the thing is a fake or not but it declares her to be a couple of months over twenty-two, making me feel old to have thought she was much younger.
"Have a seat," I tell her, handing her back the license. "I'll go see if he's back there."
I walk past Edith who is working the closing shift tonight since I worked the whole Christmas shift alone. I feel a pang of guilt for leaving her with all of it on New Year's, but she said she'd be fine.
I make my way down the short hallway, the sound of an angry voice stopping me from connecting my fist to the office door in a knock.