Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
The older guys in the club said that the strong, stocky man with the dark hair and skin and the almost jarringly gray eyes was clearly some kind of former special forces agent from an overseas organization since he had cut up his fingerprints or some shit like that.
Honestly, I could see that.
I’d been with the club for a few years now. I think we’d been connected with Zayn pretty much all of that time. But I’d never heard Daniyal speak.
I knew better than to ask him where the hell he had appeared from. The man slunk around like a cat. One moment he wasn’t there, the next he was.
One thing I did know, though, was that rarely was Zayn out of Daniyal’s sight. And I guess if you were a man like Zayn who had all the money in the world, and likely more than a few enemies, you wanted to keep your personal security guy as close as possible at all times.
“Hey, Daniyal,” I said, getting a nod from him as I turned to climb into the bus, feeling him move in behind me, shut the door, then slide into the driver’s seat.
The music was already thumping in the back of the bus. And thanks to the blackout windows, the neon lights inside made it look like a damn nightclub.
I’d normally be eating up this shit, talking to Coach about what beaches to hit up to find some girls to bring on the bus with us.
But what was the first thing I did when I sat down?
Reach for my phone to check yet again to see if Jade had texted.
“Really?” Coast asked, shooting me a raised brow look.
“Got a text from Teddy,” I told him, shrugging.
“Teddy, does he want to join?” Zayn asked.
While the two men were from wholly different upbringings, when you reached a certain level of wealth, you ended up rubbing elbows with the same people at the same events regardless. Charity shit, I guess.
So even before Zayn and Teddy met through the club, the two had known each other.
“I’ll ask,” I said as I shot off a text thanking him for having his lawyers working on Curtis’s case so quickly. He’d even gone above and beyond and posted the bail for the man he’d never met. So the man was home with Lily and his kids already.
“Teddy said he’s at a board meeting, but he might catch up with us at the clubs later,” I told the crew who were already several drinks in while I hadn’t touched a drop of anything yet.
With that, I tucked my phone away, determined to put thoughts of Jade out of my mind as we drove down to the beach, then filed out.
Coast, Kylo, Raff, and Coach were quick to make their way over to a group of bikini-clad girls. While my lame ass made my way down toward what looked like a farmer’s market in the opposite direction.
I was only maybe a third of the way down the parallel rows of booths. Some featured overflowing crates of colorful vegetables. Others featured flower arrangements. Others still were full of handmade jewelry or honey.
But then, right at my side, was something I never could have anticipated.
Jade.
Sitting on a chair with a green juice in her hand, smiling at someone who was asking her questions about one of the prints she had hanging up all around her.
I don’t know what I expected when I heard she was an artist. I guess I figured she must have been decent if the women in the laundry room had been gushing about her work. But I never really thought about it beyond that.
But, fuck, she was really good.
And eclectic.
There were a bunch of beach scenes, likely hoping to capitalize on the tourists in the area who wanted to bring a piece of the area back home with them. But there were also ones of mountains, deserts, goldfish, flowers, and even a few less aesthetically pleasing, grittier pieces featuring the apartment building I grew up in as a backdrop as she, I assumed, drew inspiration from her new home. None of them showed any actual faces, but they were all painted in darker colors with one bright focal point. In one, a mom was lifting up a baby over her head with her other kids sitting around at her feet. Another had an older boy helping a younger one learn to use a skateboard.
I figured there were actual scenes she’d witnessed and wanted to immortalize.
Directly behind Jade were two incredibly realistic portraits. One of them looked like an older version of herself. Her mom, I assumed. And the other looked like a more masculine version of Jade. A brother, probably. The sign on them said she was open for private commission portraits.
I waited for the couple she was talking to to move on before I stepped closer.