Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Again, she cleaned the bar and then made her way back toward him.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” she said. “Are you lost?”
“Not lost. Just a guy wanting a drink.”
“Yeah, you look like a guy who’s drowning his sorrows. Lost at the tables? Put a bet down that didn’t go your way?” she asked.
Antwone couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t gamble.”
“Really?”
“You’re surprised?”
“Look around you, sweetheart. There are a lot of men here who are drowning their sorrows because they lost at the races.” Candice folded her arms across her chest, and then pursed her lips. “Broken heart?”
“No.”
“Wife giving you trouble?”
He lifted his drink. “I don’t have a wife.”
“Really?”
Antwone couldn’t help but chuckle again. “Another surprise, I see.”
“I figured you’d be married.” She shrugged. “You look like the kind of guy who has it all figured out.”
“Thanks for the compliment. So, is there a husband waiting for you, Candice?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Nah, no special someone for me, thank you.”
This did surprise him. “Are you lying to me?”
“You may be a stranger to me, but no, I’m not lying. I’m single. Trust me. It’s a good thing.”
“Ah, have you sworn off all men?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. Let’s just say I’ve had a bad experience and leave it at that.”
He didn’t want to leave it. He wanted more information and as he stared at her, Antwone found himself curious about this woman. In all his life, he couldn’t recall a woman, not even his brother’s wife, talking to him so freely. Most of the women in his world were vying for his attention, wanting the status of marrying The Boss.
“So, if you’re not married—and you’re clearly doing well in the world by the looks of the suit—why are you here, late on a Friday night, drinking alone?”
His cell phone buzzed.
“Ignoring your calls?” she asked.
“It’s complicated.”
“Most things in life are,” she said, sighing. “You’re totally right, though. I get it. It’s nice to just get away from all the shit, isn’t it?”
Antwone smiled. “Yeah, it is.”
He watched as she grabbed the whiskey bottle, stepped toward him, and poured him another glass.
“On the house,” she said.
He didn’t get a chance to thank her as she was already moving away to deal with other customers.
His cell phone died, but then was immediately aglow again with Draven’s number lighting up the screen. It would be so easy to ignore it, but if he continued to do that, blood would be shed as Draven tried to find him, expecting the worst. Clicking the green phone icon, he placed the call to his ear and waited.
“Antwone, speak, or so help me, I will make you suffer.”
“What could you possibly need from me right now?” Antwone asked.
“You’re alone.”
He had evaded his guards for a reason. “Get to the point.”
“Damn it, Antwone, you know the threats. Our enemies—”
“Are always out there, and I know how to deal with them. Trust me, Draven. I can take care of myself.”
His brother had been taking care of him for long enough now. It was time for him to stop.
He knew how to handle himself. He’d shed enough of his enemies’ blood to know how to take care of everything. There was no mercy in him. No one would ever be safe with him around.
Antwone watched as Candice smiled. She was a beautiful woman and her smile was so sweet, but he also saw no other man paid her too much attention. They wanted their drinks and to drown their sorrows.
He had no idea what made him walk into this bar. He didn’t even know the name of the place, just that he needed a drink, some privacy, and this place had lit up like a beacon for him.
****
Candice Swift hated the dark. It was the one downside to working at night—only the streetlights to offer any kind of protection. Stepping out onto the street, she wrapped herself up in her jacket. It was only late September, but it was already cold. They were going through one of those strange, early fall/winter things. One day it was freezing cold, the next toasty warm. She pulled out her mittens and slid them on her hands.
“Cold?”
The sudden question directed close to her ear had her screaming. She quickly spun around, hands clenched into fists, not that anyone would see them, as they were already covered by her mittens. She was surprised to see the guy from the bar—the one without a wife or girlfriend who hadn’t lost at some gambling venture.
“Hello, Candice,” he said.
Keeping her fists raised, she frowned at him. “You do realize this is totally creepy, right?”
He frowned. “How?”
“You waited until closing, and you startled me. I’m getting a little bit of a creeper vibe right now.”
“Ah, I see. I wanted to thank you.”
She still didn’t lower her fists, but she couldn’t help but be intrigued. “You want to thank me?”