Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Marcus is a different sort of threat. By the time you see him coming, you’re already dead. He doesn’t have a territory, he doesn’t have men. When he makes demands, they’re always about death. They called him the Grim Reaper when I was younger. He doesn’t want money, he doesn’t bargain. What Marcus decides is final and there’s no room to negotiate. He’s only one man, but he’s killed every man who’s crossed him and even more men simply because they were on his list.
A minute passes before Carter reaches for the radio again and lets the music ease the tension.
“It’s fine.” My words come out casually as I watch Chloe’s house. Not a thing looks out of place. It’s not fine though. This shit is exactly why I could never be with her. One day you’re on top, the next you’re in a ditch. That’s how this lifestyle is, and I’ll never bring anyone into this shit life if I can help it. That especially goes for Chloe Rose.
“When are you going to ask her out?” he asks with a wide smile. He still has happiness in his soul. Enough to bring a bit of light to every dark situation. One day it’ll go out. It always does for men like us. But I’ll do my damnedest to keep it from happening.
“I know you want her,” he chides again.
He doesn’t know the half of it. I’ve known Chloe for a long time. And I made sure she never knew how I watched over her when her mother died. She wasn’t okay. Everyone knew it. Just like they knew I wasn’t okay when my mother died.
No one gives a shit though. People die, and somehow you keep going.
Then more people die and one day it’s you.
One time I walked up to her porch and peeked in her window after she’d moved into her uncle’s. The TV was on and I thought maybe she was watching it. That she’d be okay. It had been weeks. Weeks of nothing but her crying, constantly crying and hating herself. And I despised it. I fucking loathed it. The whole street could hear her uncle yelling at her to stop crying. That he’d lost his sister too and that she needed to stop.
When I looked in, she was still crying, but her eyes were wide open, her cheeks tearstained, and she saw me.
I know she did, not that it changed anything. I knew at that moment when she didn’t do anything or say anything, that I was just as dead to her as her mother was. It hurt me like nothing else in this world had to know that just then, I meant nothing to her. I couldn’t take her pain away. I was nobody special.
I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. I was nothing that night.
But the next day, I proved her wrong. When she kissed me back, I proved her wrong.
CHLOE
He comes by every day. Friday night he stood in my kitchen. Saturday, he drove by with Carter Cross, Sunday he came alone and now it’s Monday night and he’s outside again.
I act like I don’t see him. I’ve always done that. Everyone leaves you alone if you act like you don't exist.
The thing about Sebastian though, is that he doesn’t leave until he knows I know he’s watching me. Or maybe that’s just what I think because I feel his gaze on me every time and I have no desire not to look back at him.
I pull back my curtain when the car outside idles and idles. A book is open in my hand, its pages unread. I let it shut as I peek outside to see who it is. The large text closes with a dull thud that matches the single pound in my chest when I see him out there.
I try to swallow but my throat’s dry.
Angie said it’s an intimidation tactic. I shouldn’t have told her anything about Sebastian coming by like this. She concocted about a dozen theories of what’s going on with the murders and Sebastian and why he’s checking on me and instructing me on what to tell the cops. She was animated, to say the least, but I was more interested in hearing about what she did on Sunday with her new boy toy than anything that has to do with this shit city.
My eyes drift down, meeting Sebastian’s and instead of glancing away, I hold his gaze for a moment.
I would feel it, wouldn’t I? If his intention was to intimidate me, I’d feel fear, or a chill maybe? I’d feel something other than the quiet stillness that settles deep in my bones, the smoldering heat that simmers in my blood. Just looking at him, my body relaxes.
I swear I even see his lips tug into an asymmetric smile when I don’t look away.