Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Green bean casserole.”
His eyes flash with satisfaction. “You got it, PG.”
He ruffles my hair on the way by, reminding me of how my cousin Jake would do it, and leaves the kitchen. Stormy is moaning from where Filter has her pinned against the fridge.
Don’t want to watch them fuck.
I slip out of the kitchen and realize no one is paying attention to me. With that thought, I slip out the back door and start walking. The air is chilly and it whips my hair around. All I have on is a Poison sweatshirt, a pair of black leggings, and tennis shoes. Not ideal running away attire, but it’ll do in a pinch.
My gaze skims along the tree line that runs parallel with the long driveway. I could walk down the driveway, but then my chances of being caught are higher. I’m squinting into the trees when I see a small clearing. Curiosity gets the better of me and I hurry over to it. The clearing is more like a path through the trees. I follow it for several hundred feet before coming to an old building with a large chimney looking thing on one end.
Several old, decaying pens surround the building. No grass grows. Just mud. Looks like this place once housed pigs. The wind whistles through the trees, making me shiver. I walk over to the building’s entrance and frown when I realize it’s locked.
“I could give you a tour inside, but then I might accidentally leave you there.”
The deep voice makes me squeak out in surprise before whipping around. Payne. He’s scary and stealthy and totally gives me the creeps. Upon first inspection, he’s hot. All these fuckers are. The shaved head and unhinged glint in his eyes, though, make him kind of scary. The fact he’s been following my every move is even more freaky.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I spit out, hands on my hips.
His eyes drag down my front in a dismissive way. “Nope.”
“Pervert.”
He laughs. Deep and husky and cruel. “Not my type.”
Even though I don’t care, his words sting. Being a former pageant girl, I really did prance around and seek approval from others in the way of awards and crowns and trophies. People not liking me or not being attracted to me is, quite frankly, new.
“What is your type?” I demand. “Boys?”
He shrugs. “Anything but you.”
“Rude.”
“I’ve been called a lot of things, but never rude. Asshole. Violent. Mean. Not rude.”
“I wouldn’t fuck a freak like you anyway,” I tell him, ignoring the sting of my pride.
“That’s okay,” he says, shrugging. “I wouldn’t fuck my brother’s girl either.”
I scoff. “Your what?”
“You’re Koyn’s.”
I gape at him. “I most certainly am not his.”
“I’m here to keep an eye on you and that means an ear too. Were they or were they not your moans coming from his room last night?” He smirks in a wicked way.
“Fuck off.”
“Sorry. Can’t help you there. I’m on babysitting duty until otherwise noted.”
“You listened to us?” I accused. “You are a pervert.”
“No,” he growls. “Jacking off while listening would have been perverted. I just listened. My dick was soft and safe inside my jeans. Happy?”
“No, you’re still sick.”
“You’re not in fucking high school or Disneyland, PG. You’re at Koyn’s compound. Everything we do is sick in some form. It’s fucking rich coming from you. Acting like you’re some prissy bitch. Like you weren’t sleeping with the enemy’s son.”
“Why is Magna the enemy?”
He shrugs. “Not my story to tell.”
“Useless bastard.”
“Useless to you because I don’t want your teenage cunt. But not useless to Prez.”
“Want a fucking cookie? I’ll have Bermuda put it on the shopping list.”
“Did your daddy ever wash that mouth out with soap? You’re mouthy as shit, PG.”
I scowl at him and shove him before stalking back toward the house. He’s soundless, but I feel his oppressive presence behind me.
“If I tell you who I am, you’ll just let me walk out of here?” I ask over my shoulder.
He laughs. “You’re not walking anywhere. Prez will deliver you himself.”
The thought of leaving and going back home makes me shudder. Nope. I quite like my freedom, even if it means being held in a swanky Man Mansion surrounded by trees. There are worse prisons—like under Magna’s nose.
“Get lost, loser.”
“Nice try,” he says with a sigh, stopping his stalking after me the moment I reach the back patio. “I’ll be around, little girl. Always watching. Remember that.”
Fucking prick.
Koyn
“Two of Magna’s guys got out.”
I lift my gaze from my computer to frown at Copper. “How do you know?”
“I pulled the report after the fire to make sure nothing incriminating was left behind. The notes showed a picture of the row of bikes out front, but a few were missing from the formation. After pulling the tags on them all, I found that Junior’s was there. Putnam was off the grid, so his bike must have been under an alias and one of the ones missing.”