 by T.L. Smith.jpg)
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
JOEY
“Have you considered you are just a pussy-ass bitch?” The words echo from behind me. Loudly. I stand still, the drink in my hand swirling as I move it.
Calm.
That’s what I need to be.
Otherwise, I will turn around and put a bullet in his ass.
Or head.
Either will do.
“Lucas,” Keir warns.
“But for real, clearly he let Adora go when we all know Joey could have stopped her if he wanted to,” Lucas replies, really grinding into my remaining patience.
He isn’t wrong. I could have, but a part of me didn’t want to. Not for the fact that she ran away, but because I couldn’t hurt her.
I hate that.
I hate that she pulled these emotions from me. That I let her, and now…
A knock sounds at the door. Not even waiting for a second, I get up to answer it because it’s better than sitting in this house I shared with her, discussing how we plan to kill her.
When I pull it open, a man is standing there. He eyes me nervously before he shoves a leash at me that’s attached to a small, out-of-breath, tan French Bulldog.
“What the fuck?”
“Are you Joey?” he asks.
“Yes, but I’m confused as to why the fuck you just handed me this.” I try to pass the leash back, but he shakes his head and backs up.
“Adora left a message. She said, ‘Give him to my husband, he loves dogs.’”
Her name leaving his lips shocks me, so I step up closer, my chest almost slamming into his. “You spoke to my wife?”
His head shakes back and forth frantically. “No, no… I didn’t. I told you I had a message, a-and it was signed from Adora. Here, take it.” He pulls a letter from his pocket and tosses it at me, then flees down my steps, almost tripping over his feet on the way.
“Whose dog is this?” I ask him before he’s out of sight.
“My co-worker, Becca.”
“What’s the dog’s name?”
He smirks as he reaches the bottom step. “Fendi.”
“Really?” I deadpan.
“Yep, really. She’s needy, word of warning.” Then he’s gone.
And when I look down, two big brown eyes stare up at me.
“What the fuck am I going to do with you?” The dog, of course, doesn’t reply, it just looks up at me with curious eyes.
“What the fuck is that thing?” I turn to find Lucas standing there, a bowl in his hand as he eats all my shit.
“Get the fuck away from my food.”
“I was hungry.”
“I don’t care. Fuck off.”
“You sure you don’t have your period? Chanel gets snappy at me the same way, but I just help her with a massage…” He pauses as he takes another bite. “With my cock.”
As I walk back inside, the dog following close behind, I have no words for him.
Keir is still seated at the counter, clicking away on his phone.
It’s been a week since she left me.
A week of no contact.
Not a single damn word.
“Found him.” Keir turns around, lifts his phone, and shows me a photograph. It’s a picture of a man, likely in his forties or fifties, and next to him is Adora. Sunglasses cover her face, and she’s wearing a large hat. Her lips are pinched tight, and his hand is around her waist as they walk. “Go and get the girl.”
“Do we have to?” I ask, barely refraining from huffing.
“Get her.” He isn’t talking about Adora. Now that we found her, she’ll be next.
Betrayal in the life equals one thing.
Death.
“I’ll go with you. Chanel is away all week on flights. I have time,” Lucas says, and I glance back to Keir.
“Not a chance in fucking hell.” My hand clenches around the leash, and the dog hides behind my legs. That’s when Keir finally notices her.
“I don’t even want to ask.”
“Wren will love the dog. Take it.” He stands to come closer, squats down to view the animal, and looks up at me.
“What’s its name?”
“Fendi.” He smirks before he pats the floor, and Fendi goes to him.
Keir and I grew up with dogs, and when our family dog died when I was a kid, we just couldn’t stand the thought of getting another one. So we never did.
“You’ll collect her when you get back,” he says and turns for the door, the dog trailing behind him. But, before he walks out, he shoots over his shoulder, “Lucas, try not to get yourself killed.”
“I’ll do my best.” Lucas salutes, still munching away on food that isn’t his.
“So, when do we pick up the pretty young one?”
TWO
JOEY
Joey
“Do you think she is as pretty as your wife?” Lucas taunts as we stand outside the large gate in front of the school.
“No,” I answer bluntly.