Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
The drunken asshole immediately gets up and stumbles out of the seat, looking back at us a few more times before running out of the establishment.
“But he … hadn’t paid the bill …” I mutter after him even though that should be the least of my worries right now. That’s just how my brain works. Or that of anyone with a bunch of debt, for that matter.
“Sit.”
My brain suddenly remembers the stranger with the gun, and my eyes travel to his. They’re filled with rage, poisonous rage to the point that I’m left gasping for air as he speaks.
I do what he asks, and as I sit down on the opposite end of the same booth, he does so too. He places his gun on the table in front of us, but it’s still pointed right at me as though he’s taunting me.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
Sweat drips down my back as my pulse races. “Amelia.”
His lip twitches again, just like before, almost as if he wants to smile but doesn’t.
“Amelia …” The way he speaks my name as though he’s claiming every syllable for his own makes goose bumps scatter on my skin.
“What are you doing here?” he asks in a low, commanding voice.
I don’t know why he’d ask me that … or why he’d care.
“I … I … I’m sorry, do I know you?” I mutter, confused by why this stranger with a fucking gun would save me from a dirty customer. “Please don’t hurt me.”
My eyes flutter back and forth between him and the gun while I contemplate my options.
He narrows his eyes at me. “Tell me what you’re doing here, Amelia. Why do you work here?” he asks, visibly upset.
I frown. What kind of question is that? “I need to make money.”
He lowers his head. “What for?”
“To pay off my loans,” I spill out quickly, hoping it’ll appease him.
It’s quiet for some time, uncomfortably so.
His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Don’t let these fuckers touch you again.”
Why would he care? Who is this guy? I thought he was trying to save me from that drunk, but now I feel as though it’s more than that. It’s almost as if … he wants something from me?
“You got that?” he growls.
I nod a few times.
“Good girl,” he says with that same gravelly voice that makes all my senses come to life.
He rummages around in his pocket and fishes out a stack of money so thick that it makes my eyes pop. He smacks it down on the table and points at it.
“Take it.”
I’m so damn confused right now. I didn’t give him anything—no drinks, nothing—so what’s he paying for. “Why?”
The look on his face is serious. “Take. It.”
I don’t think twice before I grab it and shove it in my pocket.
I mean, I’m not saying no to free money, but there has to be a catch. No one would ever give a random girl this much money without wanting something in return. Maybe this guy wants me all to himself.
I shiver at the thought. At the idea of those calloused hands that only just hovered over the trigger of his gun being gentle on my skin. At the idea of those eyes boring into mine while he’d force me to sit down with him. At the thought of his lips sliding down my neck while whispering filthy little commands into my ear, lulling me into submission.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he sneers, “Leave.”
My brows furrow. “What? Why?”
“I gave you the money you’d earn tonight. Now get out of here.”
I’m flabbergasted. Why would he do this? Why would he want me to go when he could have me all to himself for all this money? What would he gain from having me gone?
“Go!” he says through gritted teeth, the menacing look on his face enough to make me jolt up and run.
I don’t even take the time to tell Joe that I’m done for tonight. I just rush out the door, praying that this man, whoever he is, doesn’t come after me.
Because I’m certain this won’t be the last time I see him.
Chapter 2
Eli
I waited for her in the shadows of that strip joint, and when she finally appeared from behind the bar, she took my breath away. Her pretty black hair in pigtails and her petite body wrapped in a small red dress. When the men in there started looking at her like hungry wolves it made my blood boil.
No one gets to look at her like that.
No one … not even me.
And when that fucker started touching her like he could, like he was allowed and she was there only for him, I had to intervene.
I never intervene.
This is rule number one of our House. Do not stop people from doing what they want. Observe, listen, then act.