Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
The whereabouts of the woman leading up to that night had been unaccounted for.
The woman, Cassidy Reins, had no friends. She worked as an actress, had just moved to Dallas for some reason and had zero connections as far as we could tell.
Hell, she didn’t even have a bank here yet.
She did have an apartment, but that’d been so empty it was useless.
“Hot damn.” I grinned. “I’ll look into it.”
So that was what I did.
Leaving her with a kiss on the forehead, I left, ready to ask some questions.
What I found out hours later, at a hotel in downtown Dallas, made my heart race.
Just a few blocks down from the place she was found murdered, she’d spent the night with none other than Taite DeRosa.
And who had happened to catch them? None other than Alana El Dorado.
As I played the security footage from the hotel that night, I watched as the woman left in her running clothes, a look of fear on her face. And twenty minutes later, Alana and Taite followed.
I called my dad at three in the morning, and he answered in two rings. “Son?”
“I have to get on a flight to Kentucky.”
“Kentucky?” he asked. “What’s there?”
I grinned wickedly. “Taite DeRosa. Who is now wanted for questioning in the homicide of Cassidy Reins.”
Having sex without eating pussy is like opening a yogurt and not licking the lid.
—Text from Quincy to Hollis
HOLLIS
“Hey,” I heard Quincy’s deep voice call from the other side of the bed.
I didn’t blink open my eyes, barely even registering him as he had a quiet conversation right next to me.
I was nearly back to sleep when he hung up, rolled over, and placed a kiss on my cheek. “Gotta go.”
“Bye,” I muttered. “Be safe.”
He got out of bed without another word and was gone without turning on a single light.
I heard him close the front door, then lock it, before I drifted back to sleep.
When I woke up again, it was light out, and I was in Quincy’s bed alone.
I knew as soon as I woke that today was going to be total shit.
It was only six in the morning, and I was awake.
Why was I awake?
Because my uterus hated me.
Once a month, I was reminded that I wasn’t God’s chosen one.
Why?
Because my uterus hurt so bad that it nearly doubled me over in the bed.
Like mother nature always did, she fucked me over on my day off.
I groaned when I got out of bed and immediately saw the mess I’d made of the sheets.
Stripping them off the bed and hoping beyond hope he had some good stain remover, I piled them into a tight ball and placed them on the floor next to the bedroom door before heading to his bathroom to hop into the shower.
After I was cleaned up and dressed in my own clothes, with a huge stack of toilet paper lining my panties, because God forbid I remember to pack a freakin’ tampon in my purse or my overnight bag, I headed to the laundry.
Which, of course, was overflowing and had both semi-wet clothes in the dryer, and mildewy smelling clothes in the washer.
After removing both loads from the washer and the dryer, I threw everything on the floor and got the sheets started, luckily finding stain remover.
I was out the door ten minutes later, heading to the closest Walgreens that happened to be five blocks over.
Since Quincy lived in a better part of town, I didn’t question the urge to walk. I just did.
Arriving at the Walgreens, I paid for the box of tampons, and immediately went to the bathroom to take care of business.
As I walked out of the store a few minutes later, I looked over my shoulder, wondering if it was normal to always feel like someone was looking at you.
I mean, I was in downtown Dallas, after all.
It was as I was looking around, trying to spot if I was actually being stared at, when I spotted it.
Pie Hard.
Frowning, I wondered what the place was, and found myself crossing the street to get to the front door.
When I arrived, it was to see straight into the coolest looking bakery I’d ever seen in my life.
The theme for the bakery was ’80s rock bands.
And on the wall was the biggest looking AC/DC-esque lettering for ‘Pie Hard’ that I could imagine.
I loved it.
Walking through the door, it was to find a beautiful woman standing there, looking eager.
“What can I get you?” the wide-eyed lady asked, practically bouncing on her toes.
I looked from her to the bakery display and back again. “I have no clue.”
“Would you like help?” she asked.
I nodded. “Absolutely.”
“Well, let me start off by introducing myself. You’re my first customer!” she said. “I’m Maven Brumfield, and I just opened this morning!”
I took a bite of the Danish she’d offered me and saw heaven.