Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72154 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Why are you grinding your teeth?”
I looked over to see Kayla staring at me in concern.
“The thought of getting snow in today is making me worried,” I admitted. “I don’t like having to go dig people out of ditches and shit on the best of days. If it snows or ices like they say it most likely will, I’ll spend my whole goddamn day digging these people out.”
“Can I come with you?”
I frowned over at her.
“Why would you want to?” I questioned.
She shrugged. “No reason, really. I just think it’ll be interesting. Do you do repossessions often?”
I turned my head back to the screen, swallowing at the excitement she possessed at just the thought of going out and towing cars with me.
She didn’t realize how unglamorous it was, but the thought of her being there with me while I worked was enough for me to get practically giddy at the idea.
“I guess you can come.” I paused. “And I don’t do repossessions all that much anymore. They kind of banned me from them.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“I was apparently being mean to people whose cars I repossessed. And Dante thought that maybe I shouldn’t do those kinds of pickups anymore,” I explained.
Kayla stared at me a few moments.
“What did you do?” she asked.
I licked my lips and started to reply, but was cut short when an excited voice filled the air.
The two news anchors, who had been cut off so abruptly earlier, stared at the both of us with haunted eyes.
“Breakings news. A forty-nine-year-old male was discovered dead in his brand-new house in Hostel’s newest subdivision today.” The female news anchor broke into the silence. “We’re going to connect with Shannon Montgomery who has the full story for us at the scene. Shannon?”
“Thanks, Roger. I’m currently standing at the hastily erected police barricade,” Shannon said in her news-anchor voice. But I could see in her eyes that she was shaken by what she knew was about to be relayed to us. “As you know, the suspected serial killer that has been laying waste from Florida to Texas has made their way to Hostel. Today, a second suspected murder has rocked this small town…”
“Turn it off!”
I turned it off, then immediately looked at her in confusion, wondering why I’d obeyed her so quickly when it wasn’t in my nature to do so at all.
Though, it was likely the fact that she’d sounded so freaked out that I was reacting to rather than the news of another murder.
It sucked, yes. But it was also something that I didn’t give myself time to contemplate when there were other things in this world that I could change.
But, as I watched her shut down right in front of me, I realized that this meant much more to her than I realized.
Chapter 14
The grim reaper? Never heard of her.
-Things not to say to a woman
Kayla
I slept like absolute shit, and honestly, it got even worse when I woke up in the morning, exhausted, and realized that not once throughout the night had Parker gotten into my bed.
I tried really hard not to think about what that might mean, so instead I searched for my tight leggings with the lollipops on them.
Since I wasn’t actually going into Walmart, I felt no compunction about wearing them out in public, even though Janie made me promise never to do it.
Why, you ask, would Janie ask me not to wear something out in public when honestly, she cared little about what I wore?
Because these leggings were a Lularoe Fail. Times ten.
The lollipops were adorable…but the fabric was cut in such a way that two lollipops met at the apex of my crotch. One long, white lollipop stick came together just right with the other lollipop stick to make it look like I had a frank and beans.
I didn’t have a frank and beans, and honestly, I didn’t really care if anyone saw what I was wearing.
But Janie had made me promise never to wear them out in public again because they were ‘embarrassing.’
Which was a joke coming from her considering she was wearing a tank top that read, “Powered by Bitch Dust” on it.
She was the epitome of hypocritical.
However, knowing how much she hated them, and also knowing that I wasn’t going anywhere today but to Janie’s place, I didn’t much care what I wore.
Janie and Rafe had postponed their trip, instead deciding to drive down later in the month to do whatever errand they were going to do.
She gave me an eye roll the moment that I walked through the door.
“You know how much I hate those leggings.”
I shrugged and walked into the room.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I didn’t sleep well,” I admitted. “The murder…”
I didn’t need to say more. She knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.
She knew exactly what this serial killer was doing to me—and had been doing to me—since I’d left that crime scene.