Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Naw. Society’s a fuckin’ threat to me. My criminal record is long and strong… I gotta do something, though. I already told Axel I ain’t gonna be doing this shit forever. This is HIS dream, not mine.
I ain’t really talking to Mama much. Ain’t got shit to say to her. We’ve always had a strained relationship—much worse now. She’s not realistic. She’s judgmental when she ain’t got room to say shit to me. She wasn’t a good mother, but let her tell it and she’d say Mel and I had it good. I can’t stand her ass, but I’ll be damned if I want something bad to happen to her, ’cause I don’t. But if I don’t talk to her ever again, that’d be cool with me, too. I would’ve been better off raised by a pack of rabid fuckin’ wolves. In some ways, I was. The streets raised me. Picked up where she dropped off. Church.
He grabbed the pen and tapped it against the table, thinking. Thinking. Thinking. He’d been working as a crime scene cleaner for his best friend’s company, and though he was good at it and it paid the bills, he aspired for more. Much more.
I got some good skills from that, but how could I apply that shit to something else? I mean, it’s pretty specialized. I’ve got Heat-illness awareness training. Respiratory protection training. Medical waste handling and transporting training. Bloodborne pathogen training. Personal protective equipment training. Hazardous communication training. I got all of that shit. And then, too, I got a lot of great skills from drug dealin’. Gift of gab. Keepin’ cool under pressure. Reading people. Tapping into folks’ fears and desires. Knowin’ my surroundings. My math skills are exceptional, if I say so myself, but I always did good in school. I was a straight A student no matter what class it was. I liked learning. I just didn’t like school.
That shit came easy to me. I was truant a lot though, and that’s the only reason my grades started to slip. Not ’cause I didn’t know the material, but because I wasn’t always there to take the damn tests. Mrs. Florence would get mad at me, and tell me to stop missin’ school. I listened to her ’cause I knew she cared. She told me I had a lot of potential. That I was one of the smartest students she ever had.
My sister Melanie said I should go to college. That I got the mind and discipline for it. But I don’t think college is for me. I don’t like that environment. Sittin’ in a little ass chair, listening to someone talk for an hour about bullshit, or something I already know, or could’ve found out for myself on Google. I like learnin’ new shit, it’s fun actually, but not that way. I’m more hands on…
With a sigh, he got to his feet and grabbed a beer from the kitchen. As soon as he moved, Tank, his Doberman, chased his heels. Tank was obsessed with cheese, but wasn’t allowed to have any. Regardless, he’d always follow him to the refrigerator and sit there and beg for a slice. Legend closed the refrigerator door with his hip, and the animal began to whine and complain.
“Tank, stop. No cheese, homie. Not good for you.” He rubbed the dog’s head. “Oh, wait. I do have some cheese-flavored dog snacks the vet said you could have though. Just bought ’em last night actually.” He took a swig of his beer, set it down on the counter, and pulled out a box of Wholesome’s Cheezy Bites Dog Treats. Pouring them into Tank’s stainless-steel bowl with his name on it, he set it down, then watched the dog approach the dish, sniff the little pieces of kibble, and go to town.
It wasn’t long before the other two dogs, Dior, his Rottweiler, and the German Shepherd, Trigger, came begging, too. After putting treats in all their bowls, he returned to his laptop and started to log into one of his social media accounts. Just then, his friend and boss, Axel, called.
I shouldn’t answer. This is my day off. This mothafucka probably wants me to come in today. I just need some time alone. Axel is a damn slavedriver. I’m glad that since Cameron, his son, was born, he’s slowed down, but now he got more mothafuckas on the team, pickin’ up the slack. He’s out here trying to snatch up all of these contracts at our expense. I swear, if he wasn’t my best friend and helped me when I was down, I’d try and beat this mothafucka’s ass. The money though… He pays good. Let me go on ’head and answer this damn phone.
“Axel Rose, what is it?”
“Why is it, that almost every time I call you, you have a new nickname for me? Never mind. Hey, you want to—”