Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61337 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 307(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Ma tsks at me. “Don’t bullshit someone who got paid to sniff shit out, Creed. You know me better than that.”
“Two different directions, Ma.”
“I don’t think that’s all, it has to be more.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. If you do, I can leave.”
She places a bowl in front of me, her hand coming to rest on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, but if it’s any consolation, she misses you, too.”
I don’t reply. Instead, I eat the whole fucking bowl of food while she talks about her day.
And I try real damn hard not to think of Elicea.
But like a snake, she slithers into my thoughts.
22
Elicea
Tracey’s bitching at me. She’s angry and there isn’t anything I can do about it without risking our lives. That’s not something I’m willing to do.
“Just get me a job.”
“I tried, they aren’t hiring.” She throws her hands up in the air, swearing up at the dark sky. Billy pulls her to him and kisses the top of her head. They’re sweet, suited for each other in so many ways. I like to watch them, the way they look at each other when they think no one else is looking, or the way his hand steals hers when she least expects it. Their interactions are adorable.
It makes my chest hurt because the closest I’ve ever come to having strong feelings for someone was Creed, but that didn’t work out. He isn’t like that either. He wouldn’t hold my hand in public, kiss me when I needed it the most. No, I don’t see him being like that at all. He’s the opposite.
“This dress is too tight,” I complain, pulling at it.
Tracey looks me over, then shrugs her shoulders. “You look hot.”
I don’t feel it, I feel like I want to pull it from my skin and wear tracksuit pants because I wear this kind of stuff for work, the last thing I want to do is wear it when I don’t have to work. Tracey squeezes my shoulder. We walk into the same club we went to a few months ago when I saw Mickey here, then Creed. We have a private booth for Tracey’s birthday tonight and Billy set up a bar tab.
“I didn’t invite them, I swear,” Tracey says.
I pull the hem of my dress down as we enter. All four men are standing at the bar, my heart stops when I lock eyes with him. He doesn’t look up to me straight away like the others, but my eyes search him out first, like they're meant to. I walk over to the booth. It’s bigger than I expected. Bottles of vodka, bourbon, and gin line the table as a waitress stands there ready to serve us.
“You really went all out,” I say to Billy as I look at all the alcohol.
“I didn’t do this.”
“I’m sorry, don’t hate me. But they already knew,” Tracey says guiltily.
I stare at Tracey, confused. “You told them,” I say, my heart skipping a beat.
She shakes her head. “They knew, asked me of our plans.”
I see them walking over. Falcon’s the first to arrive. His hand casually drapes across my shoulders as he pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. Darby steps forward, passing me a small box .
“Happy birthday.”
I shake my head. Then look to Tracey, she just smiles.
“It’s not my birthday, it’s Tracey’s,” I say pointing to her.
Falcon squeezes me as Tracey steps up to me.
“We never celebrate yours. Never. We do mine every year because I love the attention.” She smiles brightly. “But this time it’s for you. No getting out of it.”
Echo hands me an envelope and so does Falcon. Sitting down, and stepping away from Falcon’s hold, I try to take calming breaths. Did I forget to mention that the sole reason I don’t celebrate my birthday is because it hurts too much? Way too much.
“What’s wrong?”
A stray tear leaves my eyes and before I can wipe it away Creed does. He sits next to me, our legs touching but he’s careful not to hold me the same way Falcon did.
“It’s also his birthday,” I say, my hand going to the necklace I put on every year for just one day. My brother’s birthday.
“You were twins?” Creed asks shocked.
I manage to nod my head and keep the tears at bay.
“I’m sorry.”
Turning to look at him, I see he is sorry. It makes it worse, trying to stay away from him. I’ve been so good at keeping my distance, even when I see him out front of my house after a shift, knowing he’s followed to make sure I get home safe. Falcon told me what he’s doing, but Falcon would never admit it to him because he likes to stir him up. Creed doesn’t care, doesn’t have any feelings. He’s completely cavalier about everything, or so he says. And a part of me believes that about him, he was molded that way.