Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Sweat rose up on my skin as he pulled the tweezers out of the alcohol they'd been soaking in, and started digging around in my arm for the bullet.
"Here, man," Eddie said, appearing at my side with a bottle of tequila.
I didn't care that I'd just popped pain medicine. I grabbed that bottle with my good arm and chugged as Seeley finally pulled out the bullet, dropping it in the sink with a clinking noise.
"Alright. Now for the bad part," Seeley warned, grabbing the alcohol again, cleaning out the wound that felt like it was on fire before reaching for the suture kit.
"Yep, just keep tipping that on up," Eddie encouraged, putting his fingers under the glass to assist as Seeley started stitching me up.
What felt like an eternity later, Seeley tossed his items and moved to wash his hands.
"Alright. Keep a close eye. Infection is the enemy," he added, sounding older and wiser than his years.
With that, I took my bottle of tequila and stood, making my way back into my bedroom where Huck was looking over toward where Remy was crouching next to my bed.
Where the woman was passed the fuck out, tears still clinging to her lashes.
At our curious glances, Remy shrugged, moving to stand. "Your guess is as good as mine. Mental breakdown, drugs, a combination of the two. Whatever it is, it clearly took a number on her. I guess letting her sleep it off might be a good idea."
"Yeah," Huck agreed. "Wouldn't get shit out of her like she was."
"Well, we have this at least," Seeley said, coming back out of the bathroom with the woman's oversized bag. Reaching inside, he pulled out a wallet that I found myself snatching out of his hand.
"Shyanna Jordan. From Model City," I read off of her license.
"That's a rough area," Eddie said, nodding. "Lived there for a bit when I first got back in the country."
"Any organizations around there have female members?" Huck asked.
"Not that I remember, man. I mean, you know how this shit goes. If there is some woman who is harder and better than the men, they can always slide in and get the respect of any leaders."
"But nothing about her says she was harder or better," I said, thinking of how freaked out she'd seemed even before shooting me.
"Yeah, man. I got no answers for you," Eddie said, shrugging. "Anything else in her purse?"
"The card for The Shop," I said, giving him a raised-brow look.
"Let me guess, you offered her a discount," Huck added, shaking his head.
"Hey, I'd have taken it out of my cut, man. You know I'm good for it. Some of us don't look like the fucking greats carved us out of stone. We gotta use what we got."
"Here's something," I said, finding another, smaller wallet. The hard card-sized ones that are supposed to keep your card information safe from scanners and shit.
"What are they?" Huck asked when I pulled out a handful of business cards.
"Cards for ShyBelle," I read off. "And other ones for Lily's."
"Which is?"
"Nail place, man," Eddie said in a tone that suggested we were all idiots for not knowing the information off-hand. "What? You never had some honey who wanted to get her nails done for you? Lily's is this bougie-ass place in Miami. Costs a mint to get a set or fills done. Especially if you want something fancy done, art-wise."
"And the other then?" Huck asked.
"SheBelle," Eddie repeated. "Her name is Shy. Figure maybe Belle is some other chick."
"Yeah, seems like it," I agreed. "Says on the back that Shy does manicures and Belle, whoever that is, does feet."
"Alright. So what is a manicurist from Model City who works in a fancy nail salon in Miami, but moonlights for herself doing with a gun in our clubhouse?" Huck asked.
That was the question, wasn't it?
But one we wouldn't have answers for until Shy herself slept off whatever demons she was battling.
"I need coffee," Huck said, shaking his head.
"I have to let the dogs out now that everyone is gone," Remy added, looking over at Shy, then me.
"I'll sit with her," I offered.
"Sit with her, or smother her with a pillow?" Huck asked, smirking.
"You know me better than that," I said, knowing he was joking, but still a little offended at the implication since I'd never put my hands on a woman before.
"Yeah," Huck agreed. "I'll send some coffee up with the prospects. You're gonna need it."
I would, too. The second I sat down in the small, armless green chair Harmon had shoved into my room instead of getting rid of it when she was doing some renovations, I could feel the exhaustion mingling with the pain pill and the booze to create a heady combination.
Alone, my gaze went to the woman—Shy—again without someone there to judge me for looking at her for more than a couple moments.