Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
At first, she doesn’t notice me, even though she’s a few feet away. I have that effect, the blending with shadows. You never see me until I hit you in the face —and possibly carve it the fuck up.
“Pick up, Nathan.” She stomps her feet, her generous tits jiggling with the motion. “Pick up—”
“He won’t.”
She gasps, the phone slipping from her fingers and hitting the ground. The crack echoes in the otherwise silent early morning.
She runs her fingers against her cap in a nervous, unsteady gesture. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know someone was here.”
Rebecca doesn’t meet my gaze, staring at her cracked phone, her short nails, but never at me.
Interesting. Does she already know who I am? Serrano was smart enough not to get his family involved, but maybe he uttered the name one day; the name everyone in this city needs to stay the fuck away from —or rather, from Lucio.
“Jasper Cain.” I extend my hand, still coated with her husband’s dry blood. “The pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Serrano.”
Her lips tremble, and her face pales beneath the mocha skin. I don’t have to say a word, this is evidence about where I’ve been last night.
And Rebecca here has definitely heard the name. Serrano was smart to warn his family about me, but he wasn’t smart enough to go unnoticed. He came close, though. So close.
When Rebecca doesn’t take my hand, I retrieve a pack of cigarettes and light one before blowing a cloud of smoke in the air.
I don’t hide my bloodied hand, even when Rebecca’s eyes fill with tears and she looks like she wants to stab me in the eye. She won’t, though, because like her husband, she has a weakness, too.
“Take your daughter and leave the city.”
Her gaze finally meets mine. “D-don’t.”
“Don’t what, Rebecca? Finish what you started. You dealt with gunshots your entire life here, you can say it.”
She remains quiet, her lips thinning in a line.
I tilt my head to the side. “Kill her? Kill you?”
A full body shudder goes through her. She’s scared. Good. Fear is the only incentive to get her out of here, and not in cement like her husband.
I reach out and take her cold, sweaty hand in mine. She looks on the verge of throwing up as I shake it. “Leave so you never hear the name Jasper Cain again.”
I release her and she jerks away as if she’s been slapped then runs back in the direction of the staff entrance, not bothering to gather up her phone.
A few days is all she gets, and I’ll watch to make sure she’s gone. If she doesn’t leave, Lucio will have Stephan and Marco take care of them, as in rape then kill them, then rape their corpses and shoot them for porn.
The icky factor is real with those two.
I’m about to turn and leave when Rebecca bumps into someone. A nurse. She’s wearing blue scrubs and an open coat that stops at her knees.
She reaches to steady Rebecca and her lips pull in a warm smile. It reaches her eyes and makes her small face radiant and like a fucking cliché of an angel coming down to save lost souls.
Even Rebecca in her flustered state stops to return an awkward smile before she dashes inside.
The moment Rebecca disappears, the other nurse’s smile falls as fast as it appeared, almost as if it were never there, almost like she never smiled. Never cared.
My head tilts to the side. Her dark hair is tied into a conservative bun. The rest of her face is normal, uninteresting, all small with a tiny nose and mouth, rosy cheeks and pale skin that resembles porcelain. There’s one thing that’s interesting though, or rather, two. Her eyes that nearly closed with her smile are now huge, round and with a gray cloud that mimics the metal of my gun.
How would those eyes look if they had the blood in my knife on them?
Exquisite, for sure.
As she heads toward the parking lot, my own feet move of their own volition. I remain in shadows, keeping a parallel line opposite her as she strides. And she does stride, which is odd considering her tiny frame. It’s like she’s running away from something.
Or someone.
She unlocks an old green Honda and throws her bag inside then stops in front of the driver’s door and abruptly turns around, toward me.
Her metal eyes meet mine and she freezes, her hand suspended mid-air. Actually, her lips aren’t tiny, but they aren’t big either. They’re full and well-shaped with a teardrop at the top lip. Her mouth is slightly parted as she stares at me.
A second passes, five, ten…
If she thinks I’m the one who’ll break eye contact, then we’ll be standing here all day.
Her lips thin in a line and then, just like earlier, her neutral expression blossoms like a petal well-nourished and she smiles the same one she just gave to Rebecca. Warm, innocent, angelic.