Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74324 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
His gray eyes studied my face, first going to my right side where the piece of wood had connected with my head.
Then to my eyes, which still showed a large amount of bruising, then down to take in my body.
I’d lost some weight, which he was obviously noticing.
I couldn’t say I was bothered by it, though.
The one good thing that came out of all of this was being able to fit into my skinny jeans once again.
“Well?” He asked a little loudly, causing me to jump.
“Oh,” I said, reaching to the box and opening the flaps. “I just saw these today and, at first, I couldn’t figure out just what was bothering me, but the more I studied them, the easier it became to see.”
I laid out each of my purses along the top of his desk until all six of them were in plain view.
My belly was a mass of fluttering butterflies as I looked at him.
“So you have a purse collection,” he muttered.
I nodded.
“I used to, yes,” I conceded.
His eyes narrowed on my words.
“Talk,” he ordered.
I held up my actual purse, then showed him the symbols.
“They’re fakes,” I told him, indicating the purses I’d laid on the desk.
He looked at me with raised brows.
“So?” He asked.
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I didn’t purchase fakes. I’m not sure when they were replaced with these, but I most certainly had real ones that I purchased at actual Coach Stores,” I told him.
I could tell he still didn’t get it.
“I think my ex-husband switched my purses with these so he could have the real ones,” I explained.
A light dawned.
“You think he stole your purses, then started selling drugs in them?” He continued.
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I think he did.”
He studied the purses.
“I think the night he came in, he was actually looking to switch out my purse,” I indicated the one I was using. “With a fake one.”
He nodded.
“I remember he had another bag in the large backpack he was carrying on him, but we deemed it not yours since yours was in his hands,” Mig observed.
“I’m not really sure where my other purses are, but I think I can find that out through Ross,” I said.
Mig nodded.
“You’re not going to be in this at all. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you to approach Autrey at all,” he ordered.
I held up my hands.
“I won’t, I promise,” I lied.
He seemed to know I was lying, too.
But if that was the only way to get him to stop being so standoffish, I’d confront Ross a million times and still accept the sacrifice as worth it.
When he didn’t reply, I stood up, repacking my box.
He stilled my hands when I went to take the purses.
“Leave them.”
I left them, picking up my actual purse and making my way to the door.
“Thanks,” I said.
But before I could push all the way through the front door, he stopped me by grabbing a hold of the bar that spanned the width of the door.
I turned just my head to look at him and caught him staring right at me.
His eyes were on my lips, and the moment I went to lift my hand and place it on his cheek, he jerked back like I was waving a gun in his face.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Mig said, releasing the door.
I turned around and glared at the ass.
How could I think I was in love with him?
Then he opened the door for me and I walked out the door.
I got into my car, put it into drive and then started to leave.
But the last thing I saw was Mig watching me drive away.
And I knew with one look that he didn’t want me to go.
Knew it like I knew I’d draw another breath.
He wanted me, but he also wanted to protect me from what he thought was his dangerous life.
But his excuse had proven for naught today as I gave him my theory on just why I was somehow involved in the middle of a drug deal. Plus, I knew a drug dealer… my ex-husband.
What he failed to recognize was that I’d found it on my own.
Sure, his situations only added to mine, but it wasn’t like I was going into this life without my eyes wide open.
And I was about to prove to him just who and what I could be…and what kind of situations I could get in.
I smiled.
Oh, this would be fun!
Chapter 9
I’m not a violent person unless you wake me up early. Even a minute early. Ever do that again, and I’ll cut you.
-Text from Tasha to Annie
Mig
I was fairly positive that women didn’t have nine lives like cats did.
In fact, their one wasn’t even worth all that much.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?” I growled, pinching the bridge of my nose with two fingers. “Can you get her out?”