Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
I located the Kia Forte I’d be working on and towed it inside. Once I had it backed into my station, I called Jerry over and ignored the envious looks from the others.
Getting the chance to shadow and learn from me was rare. More often than not, I turned down their requests because patience was a virtue I lacked, and I couldn’t promise I wouldn’t snap their necks if I ran out.
Let them dick-ride Joren or Roc.
Golden was just as bad, except he flat-out refused to talk if he didn’t know or like you. He had what professionals would call selective mutism. Since only a handful of humanity had made the cut, it was far easier to explain that he was simply mute.
A shadow fell over me as I sat in the driver’s seat of the car, and when I looked up, I found Golden hovering near the passenger door. Jerry took his cue and wandered off to give us privacy.
Sighing, I ignored my partner and stuck the key in the ignition, turning it until the car reluctantly sputtered to life. “Not now, G.”
“You don’t see it, do you?” he whispered, voice raspy from disuse.
“See what?” I still didn’t meet his gaze as I plugged the handheld scanner into the car to read the Kia’s multiple systems. There wasn’t a man alive I feared, but sometimes, I wondered if Golden’s mutism allowed him to see more than most—more than you wanted him to.
It certainly seemed that way when he answered, “Atlas.” Her name finally drew my gaze to him, and for once, I didn’t find his usual impassiveness. No, this motherfucker looked like he’d just seen a ghost. “She’s back.”
I looked over and through the panoramic window at the reception desk, where she stood again with Tuesday, who was showing Atlas something on her computer. Since the desk was U-shaped—one of the two longest sides facing the waiting room and double doors leading to the valets and the other facing the window overlooking the workshop—it allowed them to have their own workspace.
Right now, Atlas was on Tuesday’s side facing the double doors, so I had an unobstructed view of her ass. It was round, fat, and bounced when she walked, just how I liked it.
My dick jumped in my pants, and if Golden and his third eye weren’t standing next to me and scrutinizing my every move, I would have squeezed it into submission.
When Atlas was done with her training, she’d be facing the workshop where I could look at her pretty face all goddamn day. My station was at the end of the middle aisle closest to the window, so there would be nothing to block my view of her and vice versa.
Just what the fuck I didn’t need.
“Okay, so she’s back.” I feigned nonchalance even while still admiring the curve of Atlas’s ass. I wanted to sink my teeth into it. Ginuwine’s “In Those Jeans” started playing in my head, and I licked my lips like a fucking creep. “What about it?”
I forced my gaze away from Atlas to look at Golden, but he had left as quietly as he’d arrived.
Sucking my teeth in annoyance, I put stingy Atlas and her stuck-up pussy and cryptic Golden and his endless weirdness out of my mind to focus on a task I could actually conquer.
It was nothing short of a miracle when I ended my first shift in one piece, which was the best I could have hoped for after this morning. I was counting my wins and absorbing my losses. I now had money coming in, and I’d met all the Kings except one.
Joren.
He’d barked that he was busy from the other side of his locked office door during my tour with Tuesday, so I missed out on meeting him.
After barely surviving Rowdy, I was more than okay with that.
I’d even managed to avoid Rowdy for the rest of the day. At times, I swore I could feel him watching me through the window, but whenever I’d been brave enough to try to catch him, I only ever found him focused on his work.
I wouldn’t entertain the thought that it had been wishful thinking.
I’d been curious when Rowdy was just a stranger in a photo. A piece to a puzzle I hadn’t finished putting together. Now that I’d met him, that constant itch under my skin to be near him was skirting dangerously close to obsession. I’d be alarmed, except I’d known for a long time that I was wired to self-destruct.
In the past, my mom would silently fret over what might send me over the edge next. I used to hate her constant worrying. Now all I wanted was for her to care even a fraction as much as she used to.
Each time I tried to excuse her sudden detachment as grief, I’d remember our last fight. Her last words echoed among the rubble of everything I’d known.