Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Then he says, “You.” Kyson is in front of me. Way too close for comfort. “Do you sneak into weddings often?”
I go to turn away, but he catches my wrist, and I pale. He should not be touching me. Quickly, before I can even think, I lift my foot and kick out, landing a direct hit on my intended target—the spot between his legs. He drops my hand and cups his balls, and before I even worry about possible consequences, I’m hurrying out of there.
His eyes track me, but I don’t care.
I need out.
I shouldn’t have come.
But I was hungry.
And hunger makes you do silly shit.
“Miss…” one of the dreary-suited guys with a walkie-talkie calls out. I don’t stop until I’m outside, where I kick these ridiculous shoes off and start running.
This is something I have experience with. I ran away from my hometown months ago, but I had money then. I swear I did. But when you can’t find a job and don’t want to give the government any personal information, you run and you hide, and now steal.
Is it really stealing, though? Especially if they have the means to replace it.
Because I don’t—
Okay, yes, it is stealing. But I do try to justify it to myself, not that it works well, but I have figured out an easy way to get a full stomach.
And the best place to steal food? Weddings.
This is my third wedding this week, and I’m lucky I haven’t gotten caught.
Until him.
I don’t know him.
And I’m not sure I want to.
Kyson is a mystery and one that can fuck right off. I have enough shit happening in my life—I don’t want nor need the worry of a man.
I manage to make it back to the shitty-ass motel I’m staying in and fall onto the bed. All the money I had left has gone into this place, which means I have no money for food. At the time, a place to stay seemed way more important than food.
I’m not sure I was right.
But I have this place for another few days, which gives me time to find another job. The problem is that it’s incredibly difficult to find someone to hire you when you don’t have references or a permanent address. I guess I could put this motel down, but then I leave a trace, and if he finds out where I am…
Well, let’s just say I have to sleep with a knife under my pillow, and it’s not just because of the neighborhood.
This neighborhood is not good—it’s why the nightly rates are so cheap. Next door there is a strip club, and I’ve spoken to a few girls who work there as they came out for a cigarette break. I’ve dabbled with the idea of getting a job there.
The thing is, though, I’m not built like them.
I’m small in every way possible. My tits are barely big enough to need a bra, and my height gives the impression I’m younger than I am.
I asked one of the girls one night if they were hiring.
They laughed. And that was the end of that.
But if I have to shake my ass for strangers for a roof and food, I fucking will.
And that’s a fact.
Three
Kyson
“You went,” Zuko says as he slides on his boots. My older brother and I look alike, but my twin and I looked identical growing up . Then as we grew older, we grew apart in many ways, looks included. Both of us have gone to Zuko if we need anything. Or just to talk. Zuko knows how to listen. It’s one of my favorite things about him. “Kyson,” he says, shaking his head when I don’t answer him.
“I was bored,” I reply.
“Lies,” he says, just as his girlfriend steps out of the bedroom, in only his shirt. “Avert your eyes before I pluck them out.”
I smile and focus on Zuko.
“I’m your brother,” I remind him.
“And she’s mine.”
“Hey, Kyson. Kill anyone today with your good looks?” Alaska teases, knowing full well it will make Zuko furious. She walks over and stands behind him before she wraps her arms around his neck.
“Oh, you know, it’s daily. The ladies love me.” Zuko gives me a death stare.
“Okay, well, I’m going back to bed. Toodles, lover,” she says to Zuko and offers me a wave as she turns back for the bedroom.
“Stop staring at her ass.” Zuko grunts.
“I wasn’t. Is that my shirt she’s wearing?” I point to where she left, and when Zuko raises his eyes to mine, I know I should stop. If I were anyone else, he would have used his knife on me by now.
“She said our safe word,” I tell him, bringing him back to the wedding. “During her vows,” I add.
His sour face drops, and he lifts his hand to brush his hair back before he shakes his head. “Well, fuck.”