Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Fascinated, terrified, and a little obsessed, I’m beginning to scare myself.
“He doesn’t ... he doesn’t look the same as the pictures,” I whisper when Luna finally spins me around to face her.
“No, he doesn’t. He spent twenty years in prison. He’s dangerous. You need to get it together, girlfriend, you are staring at him like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I feel like I have,” I admit.
“Well, you need to get your head back in the game. Just give him a glass of our finest whiskey, put it down in front of him, and don’t say a word. Is that clear?”
She’s being authoritative, but I understand why. I have no doubt the expression on my face just now was one that gave away my fascination with this man and his story. I can’t walk around acting like that if I want to come close to getting the story. I need to get it together, pull on the charm, and do as I’m told so I don’t lose my job before I even get the chance to start.
“It’s clear,” I say, pulling out my dazzling smile and spinning on my heel with the cup.
Heart pounding in my chest, I keep the smile as I move to the whiskey and pick out the bottle that Luna pointed to. She said it’s the best they stock, and the only one he’ll drink. I pour a glass and then take a steadying breath, straighten my shoulders, flick my hair, and turn on my heel, walking straight toward the man who is staring down at the bar, not looking at a single soul.
Stopping in front of him, I place the whiskey down on a coaster. The ice clinks in the glass, and all the background noise is drowned out as I run my eyes over the man sitting in front of me once more. His hands are full of old, fading scars; he’s been in a lot of fights over the years. I can smell the faint scent of his leather jacket, and it’s weirdly nice. Stretching a finger out when he doesn’t move, I push the glass closer to him, unsure if he knows I’m there.
His fingers slide out, curling around it, and bring it closer to him.
He doesn’t look up.
It’s in that moment, I decide to pretend I know nothing about him.
He’s far more likely to open up to me if he thinks I haven’t come into this with a preconceived notion about who he is.
“It’s busy in there tonight,” I say, thickening my drawl just a smidge. “It’s my first night on, and I’m not going to lie, it’s a little terrifying.”
He doesn’t move.
Not even an millimeter.
“You come here a lot, I’m guessing. Luna told me to serve you, so I’d say it isn’t a stretch to assume you’re in here nightly?”
Nothing.
“I never thought I’d like this kind of scene, but everyone is so damn nice here. Even those creepy old men at the back.”
I laugh, soft and singsong like.
Still nothing.
“You’re not a talker, huh?” I smile, wiping down the counter, acting as if I’m busy when really, I’m stalling so I don’t have to move away just yet.
Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, he lifts his head and looks at me. Oh, those eyes. The deepest brown, yet they’re so empty. Devoid of any feeling or emotion. Just empty hollows that seem to be almost endless.
Up close, his face is even more beautiful. He’s incredibly good looking, even if he is utterly terrifying. He has the perfect structure to his face—the way his eyes are set, the way his nose is almost perfectly carved out to match his face, just a little bent. But mostly, it’s the way his mouth is surrounded by that incredible beard. I can even see the faint line of a scar creeping up and out of that beard, seeming to come from his lip.
I glimpse tattoos peeking out of his shirt, and I just know that he’d be covered in them.
“Oh, how cool, you’re part of a biker club?” I say, tossing the towel over my shoulder. “That is amazing. I always wanted to see what a club was like on the inside.”
His eyes roam over me, only for a second, before he slowly lifts the drink to his lips and takes a sip.
Then he glances back down at nothing.
“It’s okay,” I say, turning and going to grab the bottle of whiskey. I top his glass up, “I’m not everyone’s cup of tea, but you’ll come to like me a whole lot. I promise.”
“Bonnie, table six needs a new round,” Luna calls.
I turn and nod, giving her a wave.
She’s trying to get me away from the mysterious stranger.
I understand it, but she doesn’t know just how determined I am.
He will talk to me.
I’ll make sure of it.
EYES HEAVY, I CLICK and scroll through the articles I’ve managed to dig around and find on the internet. I’m committed to this case, and to be committed, I need to know everything there is to know about what happened that day. Every single little detail. I might not be able to find it all, but I can find out enough to get me started. I’m going to talk to Braithe’s mom. It might be a stretch, but she is still local and, while she doesn’t say a lot, I’m hoping she’ll talk to me.