Sick Hate – Sick World Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Sports, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
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She huffs. But when I take off at a brisk walk, she falls in, probably relieved the run has been paused. But then again, I don’t know her. Maybe she likes punishment.

We go left on Ocean, then right into the Dania Beach Marina. I glance over at her to see if she’s gonna ask, but she pretends not to see me look. This whole time, she never took her hoodie off, so she’s got her hands shoved into the pockets and the hood back up on her head.

She breaks when I take her onto a dock. “Where are we going?”

“To my boat, darlin’.”

“No.”

Her no is very firm because she stops walking behind me. I turn. “What’s the problem then?”

“There is no problem. I’m just letting you know that I will not be getting into a boat with you.”

I laugh. “Ya think I’m trying to kidnap you? Irina, if I wanted to kidnap ya, you would find yourself kidnapped.”

“Well, that’s not the answer I was looking for.”

I smile. Can’t help it. “I’m not gonna hurt you. But we are going somewhere.”

“Where?”

“I bought this boat last month, but the Miami Beach Marina didn’t have a slip for me until now. So we’re gonna take her home. It’s a nice drive. But you’re more than welcome to run, if you like.”

I could be lying. She knows this.

But I’m not, and she knows this too.

“OK.” Her voice is small and so is her shrug. “Fine.” She pans her hand, indicating I should lead the way.

I smile and turn back to the dock. The boat isn’t brand new, but it’s only a couple years old and it’s pretty fuckin’ nice if I do say so myself. I jump on, then offer her my hand.

She scoffs at me, then jumps on without taking it.

“Ya’ve been on boats, right?”

“Yes.”

I turn and watch her take it all in. At just thirty-eight feet, it’s nothing spectacular. But then again, it’s pretty fuckin’ spectacular. “Nothing like this, though?”

She’s still looking around. Then she moves to the bridge and pauses to look below. “I worked on a supply ship for a couple years.” She meets my gaze. “I’ve got sea legs, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I bet.”

“But… it’s nice.” And she smiles.

Which makes me happy. “It is, right? I mean, it’s not built for parties or anything. But it’s good enough for me. I had Wade bring food. I figured I’d make you come with me. You might not be better company than Wade and Davis, but you’re definitely nicer to look at.”

She scowls. It makes her lip go up and her eyes narrow.

“You don’t like compliments, do you?”

“I like compliments just fine. I just don’t like them from strangers.”

“Are we strangers?”

“We are.”

“Aren’t we… co-workers, at least?”

“Are you my trainer?”

“Do you want me to be your trainer?”

She turns away from me and touches the tip of her finger to the polished wood of the galley counter. “Depends on what we’re training for.”

“Killing, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

She sucks in a breath and takes a seat at the bar. Then she swivels the stool to look at me. “What’s in it for you?”

“That’s a very good question. One you haven’t earned the answer to yet.”

“That’s the second time you’ve used that excuse.”

“What was the other time?”

“Eason Dead Eyes.”

“Right.” I smile. “Well, Irina, it’s like this. I’m a suspicious asshole. You’re a suspicious asshole. It’s gonna take time, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. I mean, maybe I would accept that if I wasn’t part of the equation.”

“The equation? Is that what this is?”

“It’s an expression.”

“I’m aware. OK. So you’re not going to accept that? Why?”

“Like I said, this is a mutual thing. You get something, I get something. You don’t get to hide what you’re getting out of this—that’s deceptive. So if that’s your final answer, then fuck off.”

“It’s not deceptive if you agree to it.”

“You’re not a good listener. I’m not agreeing to it. I haven’t thought much about the fights since I left Brazil. Even before then, it had been years, really. So, number one, I can live without them.”

“What’s two?”

“Number two is that I don’t need you to kill people.”

“Nah. Ya don’t, that’s true. But you do need me to kill the right people.”

She lets out a breath, relaxing a little bit, which gives me time to stare at her, compare her to that picture, and think about how it’s on my ceiling above my bed. Her black eye. Her too-thin frame. Her messy hair. The clothes and the people around her.

Some of it was real. The black eye, for sure, because she admitted it. And her tiny frame that was nothing but muscle, that was just her conditioning and her youth. A girl like Irina is never going to be overweight. She could eat forever and still not gain like that. So part of her gauntness in that picture was genetics and training, but the rest…



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