Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“You might wanna get into something more revealing than that, Kitty. Go in my room,” he paused, his eyes boring into mine with intensity. His lip curled into an evil grin. “I’m sure Khales left some of her shit in there from today.”
Big guy started coughing and laughing, banging on his chest with smoke escaping out of his mouth and nostrils.
“I’m good. Thanks,” I bit out, ignoring the fire of jealousy that ignited deep in my gut.
His eyes raked down my body. “You really ain’t.”
Ouch.
Ignore him. I took a seat on the floor in front of the fireplace. I forgot all about Khales for the brief second I was here, and I really hoped she didn’t come in.
“Kitty, c’mere.” Bishop looked over his shoulder and patted the spot next to him. I stood and followed his orders, sinking down onto the sofa. “Nice and Slow” by Usher started playing next. Cringe. A little intense.
Big guy nodded at me. “I’m Justin. This little shit’s older cousin.”
My eyes ran over his body, and up close, I could see the silver scars marring into his skin. In old English writing, the word “Lost, don’t find” was across his chest. He was a Lost Boy? I didn’t want to ask any questions, so I just smiled. “I’m Madison.”
Bishop’s arm casually snaked around the back of me as his head tilted back with the joint in his mouth.
Justin chuckled, picking up the rolled-up bill. “I know who you are, Swan.”
“I guess you would.” The slow song was really throwing me off with the setting, and my fingers itched to change it to something more upbeat. I could see Bishop’s head tilt toward me out of the corner of my eye.
“What’s the matter, Kitty, don’t wanna play games anymore?” He curled a few of my strands around his finger, and then stood, dropping the roach into the ashtray. “Too bad.” Then he climbed the stairs. “Get changed, cos.”
Justin’s eyes found mine again. “If I wasn’t so pissed at you for putting him through this, I would say it was nice to meet you, but, I’d be surprised if you make it through tonight without getting killed.”
He stood up and stretched like he hadn’t just threatened my freaking life, and then went to the small bedroom behind the kitchen. With both of them out of sight, I finally let out a huge sigh of relief and reached for my phone. I saw Nate had texted me a few times and quickly opened them.
He won’t hurt you, but I can’t do jack shit, mads.
Text back, you all good?
Fuck.
I quickly texted out a reply.
I’m fine. We’re going out somewhere though.
Then I opened Tatum’s texts.
Dude, I think I’m still drunk.
I hit reply.
Wish I was, but unfortunately, I’m on babysitting duties.
I hit send and then opened to send her another.
BTW, if I go missing, Bishop totally killed me.
I tucked my phone back into my pocket and stood to my feet. I started tidying up the glasses and empty bottles, taking them to the kitchen and dumping them in the garbage bin. I knew where everything was, so I pulled down a glass and opened the fridge, trying to find something non-alcoholic to take the edge off, but I’m shit out of luck when I only find Redbulls. I grabbed one anyway and cracked it open.
“Guys! I think I’m finally ready, I know, I know, but perfection takes time,” I heard coming from the lounge. I rounded the kitchen cupboards, can pressed to my mouth and eyebrows quirked. I didn’t really give a shit if she had fucked Bishop. He was still mine and there was no way I was going down without a fight. Her eyes flew to mine. “What the fuck!”
I waved, and then lowered the can so she could see my grin. “Nice to see you again, too, and I totally disagree, that’s not perfection. That’s…” I tilted my head. “Fake.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “And who the fuck invited you?”
“Down, girl,” Bishop chuckled, walking down the stairs throwing a shirt over his head. He had changed his faded jeans to darker ones and had military boots on his feet now. He had also lost the cap, his hair now in its normal style, scruffily clean on the top of his head. His eyes came to me. “You really coming in that?” He was still drunk, I could see it in the way his eyes beamed with crazy. “Some of your shit is still upstairs.”
Khales was wearing a short leather skirt that made it almost painful to witness, and an equally leather crop top. He hair was straight, coming down to her hip bones and her makeup was heavy everywhere. I internally shriveled a little, feeling way too underdressed. And considering Bishop had raised this subject twice now, I figured I better go up and see what he’s got. He sat on the sofa, picked up a rolled dollar bill, snorted a line, and then cleared his nose and handed the bill to Khales, who took it with a grin while sitting beside him.