Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 575(@200wpm)___ 460(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
The door swings open and Linkin pauses his tattooing for a second.
“Why did I know I’d find you in here?” Keaton’s voice filters through my ears and I turn to the side to look up at him as he leans back on his elbow beside me.
“Bro, your girl just said Delila was good…”
Keaton’s mouth clenches, the sides of his jaw tensing. “Hmmm. Interesting choice of words. Maybe it’s that ganja you’re smoking.” He takes the almost smoked joint from my fingers and flicks it into the sink to the side.
“Yeah, that, or all that talk about cherries…” I test the words.
Keaton freezes, his arm stiff against mine. Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with him?
“All done!” Linkin claps his hands, tugging off the gloves and tossing them at Maya.
I widen my leg farther, pulling the skin on my inner thigh around to see it clearer. “Perfect.”
Keaton grabs my thigh, and I watch his expression change. A slow curve spreads on his mouth. “Alucard…”
I close my legs and glare at him. “You’re done here.”
“Get your fucking pants on.” I jump off the bed and pull my jeans up, tugging them over my ass. I kiss Maya and Linkin before grabbing my jacket and zipping it back on as we make our way down the dimly lit path. The cherry thing is still hovering in the back of my mind, and I know it’s because of what Maya and Linkin said. Am I the only fucking one who doesn’t know what this means to Keaton?
I stop outside my bus—or Delila’s that is soon to be mine—“What’s with the cherry thing?”
Keaton shrugs. “Nothing. Why have you always made a deal out of it?”
“Because I seem to be the only one who doesn’t know what it means.” I swing open my door and leave it open for him to follow.
It closes loudly and I turn around with a chuckle, ready for angry fight sex. Only he’s not there.
The days go uneventfully. Training in the tent, promo on the streets, more tattoos. My alcohol intake has absolutely nothing to do with my newfound stresses either.
I stare back at the screen on my phone, where Nial’s face takes up all the space.
“I’m sorry. I’ll keep looking. On the other hand, Bishop agreed to see you.”
“He did?” I perk up. Bishop Vincent Hayes, the man, the myth, the legend. He is not someone you necessarily want to know that you have a meeting with. But I am. Because if they know something about Eli, I have to find out.
“As soon as you get to Kiznitch, he’ll meet you there. When are you planning to leave?”
“Well.” I swing my legs over the bed and tiptoe into the shower. I know that I should exercise today since I still have the wild energy from last night running through my system, but I can’t focus. “The great thing about being the CEO and not the ringleader is that I don’t have to stay for the shows. I’m planning to leave tomorrow, and I’ll be there for four days as I have business with The Fathers. We’re low on recruits, and I think they’re trying to push a new direction with how to go about that.”
“Which means…” Nial urges. I can smell his anxiety from here.
“Which means I don’t know yet!” I joke, though I know it’s not something to laugh about. I turn on the tap and wait for the water to heat up. As nice as these buses are, the hot water is still slow to build up. “We have a party to attend tonight with The Fathers since they canceled the one in Prague. I’m just hoping they haven’t snatched some girls off the streets in the meantime…” I laugh awkwardly and Nial joins in.
Our eyes connect on the screen and we both shake our heads.
“Anyway! I’ll call you later.”
Sliding beneath the water, I close my eyes and run my fingers through my hair, counting down from ten until my breathing is back under control. I was wrong. I thought having The Brothers in the know would make this all easier, but all it has done is make me realize that I gave up a secret I probably shouldn’t have so soon.
Past
She hated me. Good. I liked it. I needed her to hate me so she could stay away from me. I didn’t need nor could I afford someone like her fucking with my head the way she thought she could.
I danced with her.
I got her here.
She’s a fucking recruit.
“You seem lost…” she teased from the corner of the cell, her finger running circles on the floor. It’s not concrete and old. The flooring downstairs was all carpet in their cells. They had comfortable beds and clean sheets. The whole idea was to get them to bend and play, not to run and cry.