Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
She slides back down the bed with a yawn. “I was tired. I didn’t sleep well, and your bed is comfy.”
My smile doesn’t meet my eyes as I continue to attempt to be… nice.
“Next time, take your fucking boots off,” I grumble. I pick up the plastic bag and dump it in front of her. I begin undoing the buttons of my shirt. There’s no mark from when she kicked me, but it doesn’t feel entirely clean now.
“What’s this?” she asks curiously.
I peel off my shirt as I say, “You said you had your period and you were tired, so I brought some snacks.”
“And tampons and pads and… are those period undies?” She looks up at me in shock. Her mouth falls open as her gaze scans over my body. I flex my muscles for her, and she looks away as if uninterested.
Smirking, I comment, “Well, I assumed by your pissy mood it must be bad.”
A ruthless smile appears on her face. “You’re just saying that to really piss me off, aren’t you?”
Yes.
I witnessed my father once mention my mother’s mood swings during that time of the month, and I learned very quickly it was not the right thing to say.
“Besides, I’d much rather you eat this than steal slices of cheese from my fridge like some kind of rodent.”
“Could be worse; I could leave another dead one in your drawer.”
“That was absolutely despicable,” I reprimand as I step out of my closet and button the clean shirt.
“You’re telling me. I saw that thing dead in an alleyway and used a plastic bag to scoop it up. I wasn’t touching that. By the way, I noticed you threw the entire dresser out.”
She smiles as she breaks off a piece of chocolate and pops it into her mouth.
“Why are you here? If you want a key, I can give you one.”
Her knees curl up to her chest, and I hate how… vulnerable it makes her look. I sit at the end of the bed.
“You’re a dumbass for trusting me.” She huffs out a breath. “Don’t you feel even the slightest bit bad for lying to your family about us?”
It dawns on me then; perhaps that’s why she was so off last night. Does my little Kitten have a conscience? That makes one of us.
“No. I was backed into a corner by my parents, and this was my way of charging through it. So whether you like it or not, we’re going through this together.”
“I want my guns,” is the only response I get. Glancing at the floor, I find the condom she tore open.
“Why? Has the order to finally kill me been made, and you’re worried you won’t get your guns before I die?” I antagonize.
Her mouth opens and then closes. She curls further into herself. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I never thought it was. But I live by the saying, ‘Keep your friends close and enemies closer.’ And it would appear I don’t have many friends.”
“With a personality like yours, I can see why someone would want to kill you.”
I chuckle at that, then pull her feet toward me. She seems perplexed as I begin to massage her feet and legs. I don’t like seeing her shrinking herself into a ball, making herself smaller than she is.
This client of hers has been on my mind for some time now. No matter how hefty a price I pay Will, he can’t track them down. It’s also strange that the person hasn’t yet authorized the actual hit. Part of me has started wondering if perhaps it’s not about the hit at all but that someone’s using her to get my attention. A gamble considering she could’ve ended up dead.
I even considered she’s working for someone on personal matters, but everything Will has provided me about Jewel indicates her being a lone wolf. The only person she is in touch with is a man named Craig, and he’s had nothing to do with my family.
I grow more impatient the longer this is drawn out. I thought her client would’ve made some move by now. Shown some kind of play.
Jewel slowly relaxes with each press of my fingertips into her tense muscles.
My gaze lands on her engagement ring. “You’re wearing your ring again.”
She rolls her eyes, but I notice how her body eases back against the headboard. “I thought it was mandatory since we’re dress shopping today.”
“Oh, so now you’ll willingly come.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I just want to get this over and done with so you’ll return my guns.”
“What about the money?” I ask.
She shrugs. “I have more money than I know what to do with. And I’ll have even more after taking you out.”
Curious, I ask, “How much is my head worth?”
What lengths would someone go to take me out?
“Too much for the prize, but not enough for the hassle,” she quickly replies as she slips her feet out of my grasp. “Which is why when you pay me alongside giving me my guns back, it might make it barely acceptable.”