Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 47524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 158(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” Igor said.
“Yeah, fuck. I gave the order on that woman’s mother, and … I don’t know what happened. She is now where the mother once was.” Only, he had a feeling she was doing a little better than her mother. It also explained why she didn’t call the cops.
Road remembered getting a call from the cop on their payroll, telling them the details. Even the hospital had reported it. To sweep it under the rug, they sent in a rookie. Nothing had come of it. Nothing was ever going to come of it, that was how he worked. Road made bad shit go away.
He didn’t know how he was going to make this go away.
Getting to his feet, he ignored Igor and instead went to Sarge, who had a woman bouncing on his lap.
“Give me your phone,” Road said.
“Dude, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”
“Give it to me.”
Sarge growled, held the woman with one hand, and then reached into his pocket to grab his cell.
Road took it, opened it up with the passcode, and then scrolled through the last Internet searches and came to the conclusion that Sarge was a sick bastard.
Once he found the article they had been trying to show him last night, he read through it, getting the woman’s name. He did a quick search, and found the details of her funeral. Angela Evans had died two years ago. There was no other details, just that she had passed away, and only her daughter, Dinah, survived her.
He did another quick search, hoping to find something that would help him, but it would seem Dinah’s father was a soldier. He died in action when she was a little girl.
Road didn’t like this.
Guilt ate away at him.
He’d been loyal to Sergey, and not for a single second did he think the man would ever use a woman’s choice against her. Running a hand down his face, he glanced through each article and just knew Dinah had done this for her mother. He didn’t know why he knew that.
Where her mother couldn’t obtain any clients, and her career disappeared overnight, Dinah began to train under her.
What the fuck did he do? Less than two weeks after he gave the order, he’d been in a similar predicament. Sergey had done the same to him. And now, he had finally met her daughter.
The order he’d given to the cop was to ignore the young girl, the one who was demanding justice. Never in a million years did he think this was going to happen.
Chapter Four
Dinah felt so tired.
She hadn’t been able to sleep a lot the past couple of nights. Thankfully, it hadn’t impacted her work, so by the end of Monday, she was more than ready to call it a week. The only problem was she’d be doing all the prom styles, and she was fully booked.
The mothers of the young women had been warned that if she received any bad attitude or disrespect, she would cease working on their hair, and they would have to find someone else.
There was one young woman last year who had even threatened her with her own scissors. Now, Dinah didn’t know how other women handled it, but she had simply packed her stuff up, took the scissors, and left. Simple as that. She provided a service, and she was damn good at it, and no one, not a little bitch or anyone else, was going to threaten her.
It probably helped that her mother often said she had her father’s temper. Not that he’d ever hurt his wife. No, her father had adored his wife, and her parents had been very much in love. When he encountered an asshole, however, that was when trouble arose.
None of it mattered now. Both of her parents were gone.
She walked over to her car, carrying her bag, and came to a stop, when she saw a biker parked right next to her.
“If you have scratched my car or put a dent in it, I swear, you’re paying for a new one,” Dinah said, and looked up to find Road leaning up against the side of her car.
He wore a pair of sunglasses, and lowered them with a smirk on his lips.
“No dent or scratch.”
She shook her head. “I don’t even know why you sound so damn chipper. There is nothing to be chipper about.”
“Wow, you’re grumpy.”
She opened the trunk of her car and put her bag inside. Dropping the lid down, she put her hands on top of it. “Look, it’s getting late, I’m tired. It’s been a long day, and I just want to go home. I don’t want to stand beside my car with a man who a few days ago attempted to kill me.”
“Yeah, sorry about that, but you see, I’ve come to make amends.”