Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 112382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
It was not the same way in which Jason made me feel like I could let my guard down, something I have no plans on doing ever, but it was nice to know that there were still decent people in the world. If I weren’t so fond of working alone, these men would’ve been great at helping me get the others out, I’m sure. But I’m long past the stage where I trust anyone. And besides, this was my fight and no one else’s.
I switched off the water and fished one of my three outfits from the bag. When you live as I do, you learn real fast to carry just the bare necessities around because you never know when you’re gonna need to be on the move. I always carry the one extra pair of jeans, one tee, and one sweater. The shit kicker boots I’d found in the army surplus store years ago are still going strong, but I doubt they were suitable for the beach. Oh well.
There was a knock on the door, followed by Jason’s voice.
“Are you decent? Open up.” I pulled the robe closed tighter around my neck from habit as I walked towards the door. If I open it, he’d be the first man I’d let near me while in such a state of undress in more than five years. Then again, hadn’t he already taken a lot of liberties I never allow?
I opened the door to him, standing there with a handful of clothes. “I know you’re stubborn and that you don’t need anyone’s help, but these things are better suited for this climate. They’ve never been worn; the tags are still on them.”
“How do you know I don’t have anything to wear here?” I glared at him, which he ignored.
“I went through your bag last night, remember.”
“Where’d you get ‘em?” I eyed the colorful stuff in his hands like they were a coil of snakes.
“I told you I was going to ask my sister.”
“Fine!” I snatched the clothes and slammed the door in his face. I could hear the idiot laughing through the door, “Mi-chin-sae-ki.”
I muttered the insult as I walked back to the bed where my bag awaited with my lone tee and the only other pair of jeans I own. I’m not an idiot, and I for damn sure don’t have any of those stupid hang-ups you’d expect to find in someone with a chip on her shoulder.
I learned a long time ago to choose my battles. If someone wants to give me a handful of fancy clothes while I was here, then so be it. It’s not like I’ll be taking them with me when I leave because hey, I won’t ever need them again. I prefer to be practical instead of shooting myself in the foot. Add the fact that the clothes are new. I can’t remember the last time I wore something that wasn’t a hand me down or used.
I thought all of this before I got a glimpse of one of the price tags. It was obvious that someone had tried tearing some of them off, but there were a few that they’d missed. I held the sheer looking beach top up and almost cried at the waste. Do you know what I can do with a thousand dollars? Who pays that much for a shirt?
And why would she give it to me? Does she even know that her brother had brought this stuff to me? I snatched the door back open again. “Did you steal this stuff?”
“What? Of course not.” He looked confused, but I was even more confused by the fact that he wasn’t looking me in the face.
I followed his eyes to see that my robe, which I’d forgotten to close tighter in my haste, was gaping open. Nothing was showing except my cleavage, of which there was none since I have the chest of a malnourished teen. “Pervert!” I slammed the door again, and this time, his snicker made me want to gut him.
Oh well, if she wants to give away this expensive crap to a complete stranger, so be it. She’s probably one of those do-gooders who drive around in their fancy cars with their noses in the air who thinks that making a speech at some thousand dollars a plate dinner about shit she knows nothing about is doing her part for the underprivileged and horribly abused.
I have to admit that she has good taste, whoever she is, though. The orange top with fire engine red butterflies embroidered on it was sheer except for the strategically placed butterflies, and the red shorts were perfect for the beach. I left the rest of the stuff on the bed, not sure I was going to be needing them since I wouldn’t be staying here much longer.