Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
I need to get out of Angel Harbor once and for all, so I turn left out of the alley, remembering that I was headed for the bus station when I got attacked by those fuckin’ bitches.
Did the hotshot kill Simone? Shit, am I a murderer now? I struggle to recall the fight, how I ended up in the dumpster, but all I can remember is that new bitch cracking my head against the curb. Fuck, no wonder my head’s pounding.
I reach back and feel my head and realize I’ve got blood all over what’s left of my hair. I’m a complete fucking mess. My vision blurs, and I slide down the side of a coffee shop until I’m sitting away from the morning sun.
Shit, my money! I frantically pat my pockets and bra and realize I’m not wearing shoes. They took my fucking money. And my shoes.
Powers that be, just take me now. I can’t do this anymore.
The city starts to wake up, and this stupid coffee shop has too many customers. But I’m stuck. I can’t get up.
You know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve lost Nova, my crew, hell, even Demon. I’m a fucking loser. Tears carve a path down my cheeks as I sit here feeling sorry for myself.
Maggie Leon. Demon’s ex. Bad bitch extraordinaire.
I bet the cops are looking for me. I don’t care. One person I know isn’t looking for me is Nova. And he’s the only one that matters. A few cars drive by, and I turn my head away from the street to avoid the pity in their faces.
I feel a sudden touch on my shoulder and scream so loud my throat burns. “No!” I shout and wriggle and squirm away from the hand on me. “Stop!”
“Margaret! Stop struggling.” A feminine voice stops my panic. I force myself to my feet. I’ve got to get out of here.
I turn and glare at my attacker “Leave me the fuck alone.” Familiar honey-brown eyes hidden behind a pair of expensive red glasses look back at me. She’s wearing black slacks and a white blouse, all of it looks like it costs a lot of fucking money, but she also is the most put-together person I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Sophie? From the clinic?”
She smiles and gives me a short nod. “That’s me. Margaret, right?”
I nod and take a suspicious step back. “What are you doing here?”
She sighs, rubbing her forehead in a clear sign of worry. “I was out searching for a patient. She’s fifteen, pregnant, and addicted. And she missed her appointment today.” Her gaze settles over me, and I know I look like fifty shades of shit.
“My stylist is on vacation,” I say in a flippant voice when her gaze pinches into an expression I can’t identify.
“What happened to you?”
“Oh, nothing,” I say easily. “I was trying to leave this fucked up town and ran into my old crew, and those fucking bitches tried to kill me. Again. I really got to bolt. They could be anywhere.”
“Come with me. I’ll get you cleaned up.” Sophie reaches for me, but I take a step back. “What’s wrong? I’m not going to hurt you, Margaret.”
I believe that much. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t want to see Nova.”
She frowns in confusion, and I can see the indecision weighing on her shoulders. “I’m not Dr. Bishop. Let me help you.”
I shake my head and turn away from her. “Never mind. I’ll be fine, Sophie. I’m just a little banged up.”
“There’s blood on your head. You could have a concussion.”
“I’ll sleep it off,” I shoot back, still walking away.
“You could die.”
“If I stay here, I’m dead anyway, but thanks for your concern.” I keep walking when Sophie grabs me again.
“I don’t know what happened between you and Nova, but I can’t let you walk away in this condition.”
“Yeah?” I arch a brow at the prim and proper nurse. “And how are you going to stop me?”
Her red lips curl into a devious smile. “I can just call Dr. Bishop right now and tell him where you are.”
I freeze at her threat and then shrug. “He won’t care.”
“Good.” She grabs my shoulders and turns me back toward the van with the clinic name and logo on the side, giving me a gentle push toward the vehicle. “Then you’ll have no problem letting me get you fixed up.”
“I thought you were nice,” I growl at her.
She laughs. “I thought you were tough. We’re both wrong, aren’t we?”
“Bitch,” I mumble and let her herd me into the van.
She laughs again. “Don’t give me any shit, or I’ll call Dr. Nova.”
“Like I trust you,” I growl, folding my arms and fixing my gaze out the passenger window.
“You don’t have to trust me to let me help you. It’ll be easier for you to run away if you can stand on your own two feet.”