Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
He focused on something more pleasant. His fish tank that took up practically an entire wall. It was his pride and joy, full of Oscar fish. His home was a palace. A castle of his dreams. It boasted five massive bedrooms, an indoor pool, and a home theater that could seat thirty people. It was the kind of place that stood out and made the crew envious. Something to aspire to. With all of the work he did, the sleepless nights, bribing cops, threats against his life, being the strong arm, vice, peacemaker, keeping the competition in check with physical incentives, he figured he’d earned this house and then some. What could he say? Archer paid him well. He was his right hand after all.
“Billy! Ya gotta meet Sharon!” Trent yelled in his inebriated state. Trent was one of the main drivers—he was strictly designated to Kansas.
“I’ll be over in a minute!” He grinned and waved at the guy. Trent was now grinding on the lady to some sappy song. She was an escort with butt length dirty blond hair, bright blue eyes, and big tits. Also, she was butt naked with the exception of her red high heels.
This was family. He saw some of these men almost daily. It was a big operation, and running the legit portion of selling and creating boxes for companies brought in the ‘on paper’ check that he could show the world. It was interesting that Archer seemed to take pride in both businesses—something he admired about him, too. He was a born businessman. Archer was like the big brother, even though Billy was actually six years older than him. Regardless, he respected the self-made guy, though lately, he felt a distance grow between them, and it felt downright disrespectful.
Where the hell is he?
He checked his watch and groaned.
He should be here, with the crew! This crew… these people. A bunch of has-beens, retired cops turned crooked, and ex-cons. Men he oversaw and sometimes busted their balls, but cared about their well-being all the same. He sat down in a large dark red leather chair in his living room, the music loud, the chatter and laughter louder as strippers danced amongst single and married men who were smoking cigars, marijuana, and getting completely wasted. The booze was his treat. Of course he had connections, but the shit still wasn’t free. Despite the company discount, Archer had already killed two guys who kept stealing from him and selling the whiskey on their own. He’d marched them right into the warehouse one night and put a fuckin’ bow through their hearts. The man was almost faster with a bow and arrow than a gun. It was the strangest, yet most fascinating thing.
Billy sighed. A large screen on the wall showed a porno: Two women and a guy fucking each other to pieces. A splash of water jerked him away from his deliberations. Some butt naked bitches had jumped into the pool, giggling the entire time like children. High as kites.
What the hell is going on? I’m trying to not make a big deal about it, but I can’t help it. This isn’t right. I know it’s not right. I can feel it. He was a “yes man” for the King. King James ‘The Archer’ Wilde, one of the few guys he didn’t mind being that for because that man ran his business right, and he was focused. Only, there was one problem. The king was not at his throne tonight…
Billy took another swig of his beer, his anger boiling within him as his thoughts jumbled together, and the booze and beer made him darker on the inside. He glanced at his phone just in case he’d somehow missed a call from Archer. He never missed a call from Archer, but he checked all the same. Maybe he ran into some sort of trouble? He gritted his teeth, tossed on a smile—pretending all was well when a few of the guys glanced his way. He lifted his beer bottle in a cheer, and they returned the gesture. Then, he picked up his phone and dialed the man, putting his pride aside. On the third ring, Archer answered. Relief washed over him.
“Hey, man! Where are you? Everyone is waiting for you to come!”
“Billy, I told you I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it tonight. Hold on a second. I’ve got another call.”
Archer sounded groggy, as if he’d just woken up. It was in the middle of the night… why is he in bed? Archer was a night person—he knew this for sure. Another wave of anger swam inside his chest, doing the backstroke to his brain. His head was going to explode. First, it was him acting funny at the warehouse. Come to find out, Archer caught a bitch sneaking around on camera and kept it to himself. Then, he realized Archer was keeping something else from him. He no longer wanted him to take that photographer lady to her engagements. He gave no explanation. No warning. He had just cut him off like the top of a carrot.