Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Disappointment clouded only by a tinge of relief washes over me as the car zooms past. Like all horror movies, the night comes alive again in a flash. A cat screeches in the distance, someone bangs the lid of a trashcan, and an argument over whose turn it is to watch the kids surrounds me.
All of it normal.
All of it more calming, more comforting than the quiet that surrounded me as a child.
It isn’t until I’m certain I hear my name whispered over the buzz of the neighborhood that my skin tingles with the urgency to get back home, but I’m stubborn. So instead of increasing my pace and focusing on the lone light on the front porch of the house I live in, I slow to a crawl, hoping and praying, just like in that ridiculous Jeepers Creepers movie that something swoops down from the sky and carries me off.
Chapter 4
TJ
Like a magnet to jeopardy, Kaci walks in the dark, wearing a thin tank top and yoga pants. Less concerned about the cold air, I’m focused on the sharp jut of her nipples as she leaves her apartment and walks, in the dark no less, down the sidewalk.
This gorgeous girl, less than twenty-four hours ago, was on the verge of being gang-raped. Now, as if she doesn’t have a care in the world, she’s prancing down the street freshly showered and tempting every man she walks past.
I’m a sinner on my best day, not caring who I hurt or plow down on my way to have a good time, but I’ve always drawn the line at hurting women unless they legitimately deserve it of course. Those infractions usually come with a healthy dose of club betrayal. That being said, and I’m not one to blame the victim or start an argument on rape culture or suffer through opinions about why women should be able to wear whatever the fuck they want without fear of being assaulted, but the sight of Kaci walking down the road, her hair wet and dampening her back just enough to make it clear she isn’t wearing a bra is almost enough to persuade me to take her against the wall of the alley she’s fixing to walk past.
“My cock gets hard every time you walk past here.”
I can’t see her face, but there’s no change in her posture that even hints at hearing the man even though I’m yards behind her, and he didn’t bother to whisper his confession.
Clearly homeless, the man is dirty, emitting an odor that only shows up after too many missed showers. It’s chilly outside, but he seems to be wearing numerous layers of clothing, probably everything he owns. He doesn’t throw sexual innuendo at me as I pass him. I must not possess the same appeal as the green-eyed blonde a few yards ahead of me.
“Hey man, can I grab a smoke?”
My feet pause in front of him, but my eyes stay on Kaci’s back as she walks across the street, turning left down the block.
“She’s sexy as fuck, right?” My blood heats with his comment. I’m angered that he’d even chance looking at something that belonged to me, much less open his filthy mouth and speak the words aloud. “One of these days, I won’t let her get away. How about that smoke, man?”
He nudges my shoulder like we’re best buds.
I grin over at him when my prey disappears from sight. A sparkle lights his eyes as if he believes he’s just found someone either with a cigarette or the same lack of morals when it comes to persuading members of the opposite sex.
Ignoring the urgency to get Kaci back in my line of sight, I pull loose change from my pocket and show the man my hand. “Sorry man, I don’t smoke.”
Like I knew he would, his eyes narrow on the tiny packet in my palm.
“Looks like you have something better.” He literally licks his lips like the lion in a cartoon as he visualizes the zebra turning into a slab of meat.
“Not here.” Two simple words. Not one of them an invitation, but the man sticks close to me when I walk around the corner of the liquor store and let the alley swallow me in darkness. By the time I turn back in his direction, he’s so close to me the mildewed stench of his clothes burns my nose.
“What-a-what do you want for it?”
His eyes dart lower before raising up to mine. I can’t tell if it’s an offer or a refusal, but I’m not remotely interested in his lips on my cock.
“Tell me more about that girl.” I urge as I shove the change back into my pocket and hold the tiny baggie between us.
“You want a taste, too, huh?” His eyes follow the sway of the bag between my fingers as if I’m a doctor giving him a neurological exam with a pin light.