Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“It’s not poison.”
She takes a cautious sip.
“And?” I ask.
“What?”
“Do you like it?”
“No.”
I grin. “Drink it anyway. It’ll calm your nerves.”
She looks at me, then at the room full of men. The only women are those serving them and the one she just saw on the auction block.
“Why am I here?”
“Because your sister is out of commission and she owes me a good deal of money.”
“My sister?”
“She’s never been very reliable.”
“I don’t have a sister.”
“Come, now. Liza Boyd.”
Her face loses a little of its color. “Liza?”
“Nice girl. Until you get to know her.”
She gives a shake of her head, straightens her spine. “I haven’t spoken with Liza in years. We don’t keep in touch. And she’s not my sister.” She pauses and a crease forms between her eyebrows. “Is she…is she in town?”
The question surprises me, but I know people. They lie. Anything to get away with shit they have no business getting away with.
I notice the sheen of sweat collected on her forehead. Another sign that she’s lying.
I nod to answer her question.
The furrow between her eyebrows deepens. “What do you mean ‘out of commission’?” she asks as if she just heard that part.
“Seems she was beaten.”
“Beaten?” She looks truly caught off guard. “Is she okay?”
“She’ll be fine. In time. Recovering at the hospital. Take off your jacket, Melissa.”
Melissa. There it is again. The sound of that name, it’s almost erotic.
“I’m fine. I’m not staying. Which hospital?” she asks, pushing her chair back and just starting to rise.
At my nod, that same man from earlier closes his hand over her shoulder, stopping her before she’s even straightened fully.
“Sit.”
She swallows and is once again seated.
“I’ll tell you when you can leave. Now take off your jacket.”
She gives me a long look, glances at the man in her periphery, then shifts in her seat. She pulls her arms out and leaves the jacket at her back.
Underneath she’s wearing a cheap pale blue sweater that’s frayed, but it does hug her generous breasts so I can’t complain.
“I won’t be bullied,” she says, and I see the effort it’s taking her to keep her voice level, to keep her eyes on mine. To pretend like she’s not scared shitless.
“Then don’t make me bully you,” I say with a smile.
“Can I have some water?” she asks.
“What’s the magic word?”
Her left eye twitches and I’m not sure she’s aware of her hands fisting.
I raise my eyebrows, waiting.
“Please.”
I nod, call a girl over and tell her to bring ice-water which is delivered momentarily.
Melissa picks up the tall glass with both hands and drinks it all down.
“Which hospital is Liza at?”
“It’s ‘may I’ by the way. Not ‘can I’.”
I know from the look on her face she’s telling me to go to hell. Not many people would dare. At least, they’d be better at hiding it.
This night is turning out better than I expected. I knew she was good-looking when I had Axel pick her up, but good looks alone aren’t enough to keep me engaged.
“Centennial Hills,” I say. She looks confused. “Hospital. She’s at Centennial Hills Hospital.”
“Did you beat her up?”
“I won’t dignify that question with a response.” I don’t beat women. Period.
“Who did then?”
“I wouldn’t know. Better?” I ask, gesturing to the water.
She doesn’t reply.
I sip my drink and study her.
“You don’t look much like each other.” Melissa’s olive skin and dark hair are opposite Liza’s ruddy complexion and reddish hair. It makes me think Italian. Maybe middle-eastern?
“What?”
“You look very different than your sister.”
“I told you, we’re not sisters,” she says with a touch more irritation in her voice than I like. “I was fostered in the Boyd home. We’re not related.”
“Blood or fostered or adopted, I don’t care.”
“Never adopted,” she clarifies, clearing her throat and not quite looking at me.
I just hope she doesn’t think the fact that they’re not related by blood means she’s off the hook.
“What am I doing here?” she asks, ignoring my question, sounding more steely than I like.
“Like I said, Liza owes me some money.” I make a point of saying her name rather than calling her her sister.
“I don’t have anything to do with that.”
“But you do. Given Liza’s current state, well, she’s no good to me.” I set one elbow on the table, rest my chin on my fingers as she processes this information. “And the only name she could offer up was yours.”
“Mine?”
I nod. It’s quiet and I wonder when she’s going to get around to asking the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar question.
“How much does she owe you?”
There it is. “A quarter of a million dollars.”
Her mouth falls open.
“Liza has a gambling addiction,” I say. “And, as it turns out, a drug addiction.”
“But that much money. Are you sure? I mean…that’s a lot of money.”
“Agree. She spent it quite nicely in my casino, though.”
She’s quiet for a long moment and her eyes narrow before she speaks. “So, let me understand this. You lent her a quarter-of-a-million-dollars to gamble in your casino, then you stole it back from her in that same casino and now you want her to pay it to you all over again?”