Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“So, you and your brothers have an underground fighting ring?” I ask Damon.
His eyes hold mine, and he raises his brows. “How’d you know that? Not something we go around sharing, considering it’s illegal.”
I snort. “I couldn’t honestly care what’s legal and what’s not. I think every one of these men in this room are the best things since sliced bread, and I’m sure they’re not always doing everything legal. I find it fascinating what you do.”
Damon grins at me. “Definitely one of a kind, aren’t you? Yeah, we run one, can’t go into too much detail, but it’s hectic, and crazy, and fuckin’ over the top sometimes. But it’s life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I nod. “That’s awesome.”
And then something pops into my head, and I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Of course, it’s probably not the correct path to take, but the fact is that Slater and his brothers, they’re dangerous, and strong, and probably equally as equipped to help me out with my little Enzo problem. They’re helping the club, so they can be trusted, and it might stop me from involving Boston any more than he already is.
Judging by the look he just gave me, he doesn’t want to be involved anymore, anyway.
That kind of hurts, but I shake it off.
“Can I ask you something, Damon?” I say, turning so I’m directly facing him now, not wanting anyone to overhear.
“Yeah, what’s on your mind, darlin’?”
“You deal with crappy people, right? I mean, you know how to deal with crappy people?”
He narrows his eyes. “Depends on what type of crappy people you’re talkin’ about?”
“Well, theoretically speaking, if I had a problem, and a person wanted money from me, because he seems to think I owe it to him, and is threatening me because he thinks that’ll make me hand it over, that would be a crappy person ... that you could deal with ... right?”
Damon tilts his head to the side. “Someone botherin’ you? Why haven’t you gone to Malakai?”
“Well, don’t get me wrong, I have, and the club will gladly help me even though I’m not with any of their members, but, well, things are complicated ... and I don’t think I should ask for their help, which leaves me wondering how the hell I’m going to deal with it?”
Damon studies me. “Got to know, before we take this conversation further, is this going to be something the club wants to deal with, and you’re pullin’ it out from underneath them? I can’t cause any problems for Slater, you gotta know that. We need their help...”
I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. I wouldn’t cause a problem if there didn’t need to be one,” I exhale. “Look, you’re right. Please forget I said anything.”
I take another long drink. It’s not enough. I need the alcohol to burn tonight, to get right into my veins and just take the pain, confusion and frustration away. It seems like it’s just not working quick enough, though, and that’s making me even more frustrated.
“Not sure I can just forget it, now you’ve mentioned it to me,” Damon says. “Got a lot of respect for your club, and you seem like a great chick. Not sure I like the idea of someone botherin’ you, and you not willing to get the help you need for it.”
“Look,” I say, my voice straight down the line, my words honest. “Boston and I, we had something okay? But, he also had something with someone else. Because of that, he’s cut contact with the both of us. He was the one helping me out with the situation, and he’s told me he will continue to do that, but you can understand why I’m hesitant to let him know that I am in further than I thought? I’m trying to protect myself. And him. And while that may seem petty, I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
Damon hums low, and then nods, “Makes more sense now. Why not just go to Malakai, and explain exactly what you just told me?”
“Because Malakai and the rest of the club, they respect Boston. They’d tell him, purely because they wouldn’t keep something like that. There isn’t one single one of them that would...”
I trail off, and my eyes move to Maverick.
But there is. There is one of them that would help me, and not tell Boston. But could I do it? Could I ask for his help, knowing that if Boston found out, he’d be hurt? My chest clenches. God. I just don’t know. I don’t freaking know and it’s doing my head in.
“Let me talk to Slater,” Damon says, and I jerk back to the conversation with him. “Might be able to sort something out.”
“No,” I say softly. “You know what, you’re right. I’m just going to suck it up and talk to Malakai.”