Contempt (Sin City Salvation #3) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Angst, Biker, Contemporary, Dark, MC, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Sin City Salvation Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 195
Estimated words: 185573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 928(@200wpm)___ 742(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
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“What’s your deal?” Eden pokes me in the arm to get my attention.

“What?” I blink at her.

“You’re practically catatonic. I’ve been talking to you for two minutes, and I don’t think you’ve heard a single word.”

Shit. I haven’t.

“Sorry.” I wipe the crumbs off my shirt and curl my knees into my chest.

“You’ve been acting weird for days.” She eyes me suspiciously. “Did something happen?”

Eden is more paranoid than I am, which is why we’ve stuck together for so long. We tend to feed off each other’s fear. That’s the reason I know I shouldn’t tell her, but the more I think about the stranger, the more I’m questioning our safety here. We’re a long way from New Orleans, and he was drunk and obviously confused about my identity. But still, there’s that chance I could run into him again. And we don’t need anyone stirring up a problem where there isn’t one. We decided a long time ago it’s best to keep to ourselves and avoid trouble.

“I think we should leave Vegas,” I tell her.

“Why?” She glances around as if she’s trying to spot the invisible threat.

“The other day, when we split up… there was a guy.”

Eden perks up, her eyes widening with interest. “What did he do?”

“He approached me when I was singing and acted like he knew me. It was really weird.”

The color drains from her face, which only compounds my nerves. “What did he say?”

“Not much,” I admit. “He just grabbed my arm and tried to talk to me. I panicked and took off.”

She considers my words for a moment, quietly stewing in her paranoia. “Did he look familiar?”

“No.” I’m not really sure why I lie to her, but it’s not like I can tell her that he felt familiar. That doesn’t even make sense, and regardless, I don’t need to give her a reason to freak out. Eden always thinks everyone is out to get us.

“Should we try to play the question game?” she asks. “It’s been a while. Maybe you’ll remember something this time.”

My anxiety ratchets at the thought, and I shake my head. “No, I’m not in the mood.”

Eden’s shoulders sag as she nods in relief. She always tests me to see if I can remember anything, but I don’t really think she wants me to. If I remembered something, then our lives couldn’t go on as they are right now. Things would change, and that’s too terrifying for both of us. I obviously forgot my past for a reason, and I intend to keep it that way.

“I think you’re right,” Eden says. “We should leave.”

“Okay.” I take a full breath for the first time in days. “We don’t have much money. Maybe we should do one more shift tonight and go in the morning?”

She nods in agreement. “We better sing our asses off. We’ll need every penny we can get.”

We spend the rest of the night on Fremont Street, and by some small miracle, we make just under twenty bucks. But the entire night, I can’t shake the feeling I’m being watched. At one point, I’m dead certain I see the mysterious stranger in the crowd, but then he disappears.

I’ve never been so happy to trudge back to the tunnels and hide with a bag of convenience store chips in hand. Eden and I split the entire bag for dinner, then divide the money between us evenly. It’s risky to stay here another night because there’s a good chance she still might run off and blow all her cash. But it’s too late to hitch a ride now, and we have one unbreakable rule. No hitchhiking after dark because nothing good ever happens then.

We make our beds on the concrete ground and use our backpacks as pillows. It’s not comfortable, but I can’t remember the last time anything was. After we left the homeless shelter in New Orleans, our goal quietly evolved to staying off the radar. Eden didn’t trust anyone in the shelters, and I had my own reasons for laying low. I didn’t know who I was or what had happened, but my gut instincts seemed stuck in survival mode. I feared everyone and everything, and avoiding real or imagined dangers seemed like my only option. It’s how we’ve been living ever since.

I don’t think I get more than a few minutes of sleep all night. I’m exhausted but wired and just want to get out of here. When daylight finally pours into the tunnel, Eden and I get up and quietly pack our stuff. Using what little money we have, we buy some water and snacks, and then we trudge our way over to the interstate.

Eden holds her thumb out for the truckers passing by, and I keep my eyes on the road ahead. We never know who’s going to stop, but more often than not, it’s men. Eden does all the talking, and sometimes she’ll even sleep with them to get us where we need to go. It makes me feel a little guilty, but it’s not something I’m willing to do myself.


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