Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“I do more than just hack,” I told her. At her dubious glance, I shrugged. “I do some of my old man’s work from time to time.”
“Enforcing?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“Usually, beating the shit out of people for money.”
“But why would you do that?” she asked. “You’re clearly doing fine by hacking.”
“I am. But it’s the family business, in a way. So when my old man gets offered a job, he will pass it to me.”
“That would be sweet if it didn’t involve hurting people.”
“Don’t feel too bad for them. Most of them are assholes,” I said. “The point is, even if I thought A was a threat to you, I can handle myself.”
“But why would we meet with him?” she asked.
“To see who else is operating in the area. If anyone will know, he will.”
“Oh, okay. But… but what if it’s him?”
“Then you don’t have to worry about him hurting you. Trust me.”
“Ah, I’m sorry but I’m not gullible enough to trust someone just because they tell me to.”
“A is married to a woman who is in my circle. She would never let him beat up a woman.”
“Oh, alright. Okay. I guess we can set up a meeting. But what—“
The buzzer broke off her sentence.
Barry was back.
And leaning on the fucking buzzer.
“This pain in my ass,” I sighed, moving across the space to hit the button, then prop the door open.
“Hey, he’s bringing us breakfast. We can’t be too mad at him,” she reasoned.
“I paid for it,” I said. “Fucker has a 10k gaming set-up but wants me to pay for his breakfast.”
“Okay, so I got food!” Barry declared as he came in wearing a bright green hoodie with a fucking Ninja Turtles design on it. “No change, Boss,” he said as he passed me.
No change?
I gave the guy over a hundred.
I sighed as I closed the door and followed him to the kitchen where he set the bags down, then reached inside to start pulling out everything.
“How much food did you get?” I asked as the containers kept piling up.
“Well, I don’t know what the lady likes,” he said, making me just barely resist the urge to roll my eyes. “So, I got three different kinds of eggs. All the meat sides. Hashbrowns and breakfast potatoes. Three different kinds of pancakes, two different kinds of crepes, waffles, and french toast. Oh, and some omelets. And, because breakfast wouldn’t be complete without it, I got us each a large orange juice. No pulp,” he said as he pulled out three to-go cups. “Mine has all the buttons punched down,” he said as he pushed them down.
Unable to talk about her issue in front of loudmouth Barry, we all just dug into the food.
I mostly sat back and listened to Shale talk to Barry about everything from favorite foods to which superhero movie franchise was the best. And every fucking thing in between.
I would normally be annoyed by all the talking as someone who liked his peace and quiet. But I was finding Shale’s answers interesting, so I wasn’t annoyed by Barry for a change.
“Barry, you’re gonna have to head out,” I told him. “I have a job to work on now,” I added.
He looked a little deflated.
Until Shale offered to play that game with him when she got a few free minutes. And I told him he could take as many of the leftovers as he wanted.
That seemed to lessen the blow of getting kicked out.
Within an hour of us finishing eating, he was heading out with enough food to feed a family of four for a week.
“I should be at the cafe,” Shale said into the silence of the space after he was gone.
“One day won’t kill your business. Hopefully, I can get some shit worked out enough for you to be able to open tomorrow. Even just half a day.”
“Do you want me to leave?” she asked, looking around.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I told her, and I could have sworn her lips twitched a bit at that. “Get comfortable. This shouldn’t take me too long,” I told her as I moved over toward my desk, sitting down, and firing everything up.
While I waited, I reached for my phone, texting one of my friends to ask for the number for Hope, Andrés Alcazar’s woman. Once I had that, I shot her a text, telling her who I was, and asking for a meeting with her man.
She took her time, likely needing to track him down to ask, and while I waited on that, I started working on getting access to the cameras at the docks.
Shale cleaned up after breakfast, made another pot of coffee, and went back into the bedroom to, I imagined, make the bed.
When she emerged again, she moved toward the windows, looking out.
I couldn’t stop my gaze from sliding in her direction, my gaze moving over her body, my mind imagining walking over there, lowering down, pulling her leg over my shoulder, and tasting her sweet pussy as she looked out at the world.