The Rumble and the Glory (Sacred Trinity #1) Read Online J.A. Huss

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sacred Trinity Series by J.A. Huss
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Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
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This makes him smile. “So did I.”

“I would like to put it on record that we can do that again any time you want.”

He laughs a little. “Noted.”

Aphone rings upstairs just as I’m about to give Lowyn another kiss.

Lowyn pushes back, turning toward the sound. “Well, who could that be?”

“No one good, I’m sure.”

She pats my chest. “I’ll be right back.” Then she darts up the stairs, her robe flaring out behind her.

I look back down at the costume I was given. It doesn’t look much like a gangster costume. What it looks like is a church outfit. And that doesn’t make much sense, because I’m gonna be at the gate today, not inside the fuckin’ tent.

Lowyn comes back down holding her phone. “OK. Yep. I understand. I’ll be ready. Thank you!” She ends the call. “Well, that was Rosie. She and the girls—Taylor, April, MaisieLee, MacyLynn, and Bryn—are all coming to pick me up at eight-thirty.”

“Whyyyy?” I try my best to say this nicely, but it comes out dripping in cynicism.

“I’m not sure. She wouldn’t say.”

“Script change.”

“Probably. But listen, Collin, don’t fight it. It’s opening day.”

“No. Yesterday was opening day.”

“I don’t really know what yesterday was, but opening day it was not. You know this as well as I do. Today is opening day, that tent is gonna be packed tight, and it’s gonna be fun.” I must be wearing a look that says ‘I do not believe you’ because she comes right up to me, slipping her hands around my waist—which, not gonna lie, feels pretty great—and pushes herself into me. “Opening day is always nice. Think back a little. You know this is true. And they gave us spectacular costumes. Just go with it.”

Then she kisses me. I’m just about to throw her down on the couch and fuck the ever-loving shit out of her when she pulls back and pats my chest. “Let’s get the wrinkles out of that suit.”

At eight-thirty on the dot, a horn honks outside. We’re both ready, but this is Lowyn’s ride, not mine. I’m not showing up to that tent a half hour early. So I take one last look at her—she looks so damn pretty, it’s a shame to waste this day on the fuckin’ Revival—and then kiss her. Because I know she’s excited about this day and it’s about to start right now.

“I’ll see you in a bit.” She blows me a kiss, straightens her cloche hat—which is a pretty light green color and has little felt daisies on the satin band—and then she’s gone. I walk over to the window and pull the sheer curtain aside so I can watch her get in a minivan filled with women.

But just before she gets in, she turns, looking at me, then waves and smiles, and I like the idea that she knew I’d be watching. So I wave and smile back.

Then she’s inside and a moment later, she’s gone.

I let out a sigh, missing her already. I wish we could just spend the day together and not have to deal with this fuckin’ Revival bullshit. I would like to take her out. Such a waste to be wearing that dress and have to spend it working a souvenir booth and sitting inside a tent.

A crack of silent lightning races across the sky in the distance and this is when I look up and realize it’s gonna storm today. It’s not raining now, but there are more cracks of lightning shootin’ off in the distance against a backdrop of purple-gray clouds.

Wonderful. We’re all dressed up and it’s gonna rain.

But… maybe there’s a bright side?

Maybe the whole fuckin’ day will be cancelled.

Just as I think that, thunder booms through the town. Then the lights flicker and go out.

“Fuck.” I go find the basement door—same place as it was when I was a kid, right off the back mud room—and open it. God, it smells the same. Like old bricks and dirt.

Our house was built over an older foundation sometime back in the nineteen fifties. And this basement was part of that original house. It’s all made of stone, but near the back side of the house, some parts of the basement floor are still dirt. It used to flood a little when I was a kid, but it’s dry right now. So I go down, grabbing a flashlight hanging on a hook that has been there for thirty years.

Not really. It’s a flashlight and it’s in the same place, but it’s not the one we had when I was a kid. So when I flick it on, there’s light.

The breaker box is just at the bottom of the stairs. High enough that flood waters never bothered it. And close enough that you can open it up and flip the breakers without leaving the steps, just in case it was flooded.



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