Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Slowly I stand and stretch. No doubt about it, I’m sore. I wish he had a tub to soak in. It feels like I’m back in training, using and pushing muscles unaccustomed to being worked.
I look down at the foot of his bed and there’s that stupid sheet. Wrapping it around me, I make my way to his windows. This is surreal. I’m in a bikers’ house.
If you would have told me a month ago that I’d get ripped off, evicted, fired from being a stripper, and rescued by a biker… I don’t even know what I would have done.
Leaning my head on the cool glass, I look outside. Bikers seem to be everywhere. In the morning light, for as far as I can see, it looks like this is one big property. Like this is it, no other houses for miles, only bikes and bikers covered in beards and tattoos.
Turning my head, I look out the side window that faces a grassy area. It’s got a large wooden play area with tons of kids’ outdoor toys scattered all over the grass.
There are two things that must get done this morning: I need a shower and to get ahold of my crappy landlord Ryan, in that order. He can’t hide forever. I want our deposit back. I deserve it, and I’m not sharing it since I’m the one who had to deal with everything.
I take a quick shower, more to wake up than to get clean. I already took two last night with Axel. I’m nervous and unsure and hate feeling like this. The unknown always makes my anxiety kick up. It’s not like I can even unpack.
God, this is a mess. Why didn’t I ask him what’s happening before he left? I’m sort of at a standstill. Glancing around his clean room, wrapped in his black towel, I go to his closet to find my garbage bags full of clothes. Yesterday, I was so off the wall I have zero idea what I brought with me. Axel seems to like cleanliness, so I ignore Bella’s large luggage—if I open that one it’ll be a disaster to close.
As I think about him, my stomach does an excited flip and dip. I feel different and it’s not because he took my virginity. It’s because he’s awakened all these feelings inside me. Stop, Antoinette. It’s because he was your first. And it was amazing. I’m letting sex cloud my judgment.
The towel drops to the floor and I glance at myself in the full-length mirror hanging on the back of the closet door. Axel will never want a girl like me, and that’s not me being down on myself. That’s me being honest.
I stand straight and run my hands over my small breasts. Somehow I can pretty much guarantee all his women have fake boobs and tattoos.
Also, Axel doesn’t do relationships. And even if he did, he’s a criminal, maybe a killer. I can’t be with a murderer. Visions of my mom’s body run through my head, and I try to dismiss them, quickly grabbing some black leggings and a short-cropped dance shirt. But they’re still there.
Ghosts.
They seem to follow me everywhere. That’s why I need to stay busy. I shut the closet door and grab my phone, hoping to see something from my crappy landlord.
Nothing.
Whatever, I’m calling. This is ridiculous. I won’t be a charity case. Ryan needs to confess that he rented out my apartment while I was still living in it, and he must give it back to me. Even thinking that sounds ridiculous, but I need to do something.
I push on his number only to be greeted by an annoying automated voice telling me the phone number I called has been disconnected.
“You’re kidding me?” I look at my phone and try the number again. Same thing. Closing my eyes, I breathe in and out. That ugly, slimy… weasel. He totally fucked me.
“I hate you, Ryan,” I scream into my phone, then toss it on the couch and try to think. He can’t get away with this. I need to be proactive and go over there to see what’s going on.
Maybe I should call Crystal and see if she can help. Because transportation is a problem, I wonder how far it is to walk to a bus stop.
It was dark last night, so I’m not 100 percent sure where I am even though I was watching as much as I could.
I grab my phone and leave the room. Looking around, I feel like I’m doing something wrong, which is ridiculous. It’s not like I’m a prisoner.
Squaring my shoulders, I notice the hallway that appeared black last night is actually a putty color with dark hardwood floors. A long wooden staircase leads to the main part of the house.
Making my way down slowly, I look over at the bar area. Lots of bikers are laughing and playing pool. Are they drinking already? I turn the corner and run into a brick wall and almost scream.