Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
-You might be a police wife
Trance
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” She asked impatiently.
I laughed as I took her hand and led her to the gate we were departing from. “It’s a surprise.”
“Now boarding the last flight from Shreveport, Louisiana to Las Vegas, Nevada.” The announcer’s voice said over the loud speaker.
I threw my hands up. “What a bitch, ruining my surprises and shit.”
She rolled her eyes and walked hand and hand with me to the plane.
I really, really hated flying.
At least I was able to have Radar on the plane with us instead of the cargo hold. Her blindness was the perfect reason. Even being a police dog wouldn’t have made it possible for him to ride with us, but him being a ‘seeing eye dog’ made it not only a moral issue, but a lawful one. Which was the last thing the airport wanted associated with them.
“I hate flying. Like really hate it.” I told her as we took our seat.
We had a window seat, and Radar laid at our feet.
It was a tight fit, but it would do.
“I’ve never flown before.” She admitted.
I stared at her in suspicion. “You’re kidding. You’re twenty six years old!”
She lifted one shoulder. “I’ve actually only been to Louisiana and Texas. This’ll be entirely new to me in more ways than one!”
I was able to smile through my nervousness and her excitement.
I had to drink, though.
Otherwise I’d have to think about how high up we were, and I was deathly afraid of heights.
Which was how I ended up drunk getting off the plane, and not remembering the next sixteen hours since I continued to drink. Even after my brothers picked us up.
The last thing I remembered was going to The Strip. From there, nothing.
***
Viddy
I woke up to a pounding headache, and a sore ass. Oh, and I was naked.
I peeled my eyes open just enough to see a solid wall of muscle at my front before closing them again with a groan. Pain lanced through my head like a hot fire poker, and I squeezed my eyes shut tighter.
“My head,” I moaned.
“Shut up.” Trance’s muffled voice came from in front of me. “You’re making my ass hurt.”
One of my eyes popped open to see Trance’s back again, and I followed it down until I had a good view of his ass.
My eyes were bleary, and my limited vision was even more limited than usual. However, even through my bleary eyes I could see a big splotch of color on Trance’s smooth, tanned skin.
“You have something on your ass.” I told him.
He grunted but didn’t say anything.
Then my own throbbing ass started to make itself more known, drawing the attention from the throbbing of my head to the throbbing of my ass.
“My ass hurts, too.” I told him wearily as I managed to make it up to one elbow.
My vision was ridiculously bad, and it got even worse when I put pressure on whatever happened to my ass.
He rolled over, and laughter bubbled out of my throat. “Wow.” was all I could think of to say.
His hair was a mess. Normally his curls were soft and wispy. Today, they were crisp and hard. Oh, and brown.
“Why is your hair brown?” I asked with barely contained laughter.
His eyes opened, and blood shot eyes looked in my direction. When they landed on me, they widened. “Why is yours in all those braids?”
My hand went involuntarily to my head, and I took into account the braids that resembled cornrows down the back of my head. When I gave them a little shake, I heard the distinctive sound of beads clicking and clacking together.
“I don’t remember.” I said honestly.
He groaned and sat up. Then handed me his phone. “Take a picture of my ass. It feels like a tattoo.”
Warning bells started to go off in my head as he turned and presented me with his bare ass.
I could most definitely make out the ass now. And the large tattoo taking up three quarters of one cheek.
The wording was simple though. “The beast.” I read aloud.
He snorted, making the muscles in his ass flex. “Take a picture and let me see it. Then turn around.”
I snapped a picture, ignoring the fifteen missed calls and twelve texts. I was reluctant to even look at my own phone.
Handing the phone back to him, I turned around and heard him take a picture. And then another. And another. Followed by another.
“Hey!” I said in indignation.
Then I tossed the pillow nearest my hand at him on principle.
Not that I cared. I wasn’t worried about Trance having pictures of me naked. He’d never let anyone see them.
“What does mine say?” I asked as I flopped down on my stomach.
“The beast’s old lady.” He said with a hint of pride.
“How come I don’t get a claim on your body?” I asked in a nasally whine as I tried to be as obnoxious sounding as I could.
In truth, I wasn’t upset at all. As long as that’s what my butt actually said, and not something like insert here.
“Oh, you got your claim all right.” He said cryptically making me look up from my lazy sprawl. That’s when I saw the tattoo over his heart.
“What does 10-7 mean?” I asked as I saw the heart over his chest and the numbers 10-7 in bold blue ink just over his beating heart.
“Can you see the letters that make up the heart?” He asked.
Scooting towards him, I moved until my face was only inches away from his chest. “It’s my name!” I gasped.
He nodded. “10-7 is the code Kilgore PD uses for Home.”
I gasped.
10-7. Home. Then my name, Vidalia Elise surrounding the scanner code. My God, that was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard of!
“How did you come up with this shit while you were drunk?” I laughed through my tears.
He gathered me up into his arms and placed his scratchy jaw over my head. Rubbing my hair with his cheeks. “I don’t know. I’m sure my brothers had something to do with it.”