Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76065 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
There were no cameras in that alley, after all. And my fellow employees and I long-suspected that the ancient-looking cameras inside the store hadn’t been working in at least a decade. On top of that, my work uniform was all black, so no one would see the blood on me.
As if that wasn’t enough good luck, I’d been working off of the books so my boss could avoid having to pay me the shift differential. That was why I’d taken it in the first place. Because there wasn’t a paper trail leading back to me for Kyle to find and track me down.
No one, it seemed, was looking for me.
Kyle’s murder, I began to hope, would just go down as another cold case no one even cared about.
I was free.
I could start over.
And he would never hurt me again.
Except, of course, he wasn’t dead now, was he?
CHAPTER TWELVE
Rico
“What’s all the moping about?” Bastian asked two minutes after he came into the apartment at half-past three in the morning.
Clear across the room, I could smell perfume clinging to him. And there was a tan swipe on the shoulder of his dark tee that I imagined was a woman’s makeup.
He hadn’t known a lonely night since he came home from prison. Hell, when he was working at the shop, he would sometimes take a lunch break and come back with a swagger in his step.
“I’m a grown-ass man; I don’t mope.”
“Yet, here you are, sitting in the dark with a drink, staring out the window… moping,” Bass said as he walked over to the bar cart to pour himself a drink, then move to sit down across from me in the living room. “Work shit?” he asked.
To that, I snorted.
“Work’s fine.”
“Except not figuring out who robbed you.”
“Yeah, there’s that. But since there’s been nothing else going on since, I figure it’s an isolated incident.”
“It’s not work. Then it’s gotta be a woman. It’s gotta be Kick.”
“Why would you say that?”
“‘Cause she’s been looking for you each time the door opens or she sees someone out of the corner of her eye coming out of the back room.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“See that shit?” Bass asked, smirking at me. “There goes all the moping. And, yeah. Figured something went down with you two.”
“You could say that.”
“And you’re sitting here instead of getting buried between her legs because…”
That was a good question.
I’d been asking myself the same thing over and over since walking her back to her door.
“She works for me.”
“So what?”
“So it’s complicated.”
“Only if you make it complicated. You’re both adults. Think you can manage to figure it out.”
He made it sound so simple.
Hell, maybe it was.
“You have your meeting with Renzo?” I asked.
“Yep.”
“And?”
“Went like I expected. My past history isn’t enough. I gotta prove I can still be an earner now. If I can manage that, I can get Made and get my own crew.”
I knew it wasn’t what Bastian wanted. He’d gone to prison for the family, lost years of his life for us. Now, all of us had moved up without him. And he was still in the same place. Trying to prove his worth.
I felt for him.
But I also understood Renzo’s point as well.
The world was a different place than it was when Bass had gone away. Crews had imploded and disappeared or came out of nowhere and taken over. Local businesses were different. So were alliances and enemies.
He needed time to find his footing again, rebuild relationships, get a reputation for himself.
While I cared that Bastian was disappointed, what was good for the family as a whole was more important.
“If you don’t mind, I might take up some of the other guys on small jobs,” Bass said. “Saff said she can always use a set of hands. And Cinna and Dav said they have a big job coming up soon. Figure any money I can make means more of a kick-up to the boss. It’ll all help get me closer to having my own crew.”
“I have no problem with that,” I said, nodding, remembering how thin I used to stretch myself when I was working to prove my worth as well. I barely slept more than three or four hours a night for years. “And you know if I have any jobs I need a hand on, I will tap you first.”
“Appreciate it,” he said, finishing his drink, then getting to his feet. “Well, I’m gonna go wash this awful perfume off of me. Maybe you should think about getting some of that blueberry all over you in the office at work tomorrow.”
It seemed so easy.
Maybe it was.
I suddenly had the urge to show up bright and early to work in the morning.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Kick
How was he alive?
My throat felt tight, like someone was closing their hand around it and squeezing tighter with each passing second.