No Prince Read online Stevie J. Cole, L.P. Lovell

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Funny, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 115590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
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“It doesn’t even go fast.”

She narrowed her eyes at me and stepped forward. “Fine. But if we die, it’s your fault.” She had ridden things that had some of the safety straps duct-taped together and she thought this was going to be the one to kill us.

“Whatever, Roe.” We took a seat in one of the baskets, and the bar came down over our laps. I tapped the metal with my finger. “Look. Totally safe. No chain,” I laughed.

She wobbled the bar. “That’s not gonna save us if the whole thing collapses.”

Something dropped onto my head, and I looked up.

“Cocksucker!” Hendrix was in the basket above us with a girl, feet dangling. He cackled before tossing another piece of popcorn onto my head.

Monroe looked over her shoulder. “He totally got the cotton candy girl to suck his dick up there.”

He probably did. Bastard. “No way a girl could suck a dick that fast.”

She bit at her bottom lip, her gaze dropping suggestively to my crotch. “That feels like a challenge.” The ride made its way around as people filled up the seats. As soon as we were halfway to the top, Monroe yanked at my belt.

I had always wanted to ride a Ferris wheel, and now I was going to get a blowjob while doing it. I fought a smirk when she pulled me out. “You only got about two minutes,” I said.

And down her warm throat I went. I didn’t know if it was the music blaring from the speakers, the flash of lights, the open air, or the fact that if anyone looked up, they would absolutely see her head bobbing up and down, but by the time we reached the very top, my hand was on the back of her head, and my head was thrown against the seat.

“Shit,” I groaned, my toes curling in my shoes when she took me over the edge.

Monroe sat up, wiped the back of her hand over her mouth, then smiled. “That wasn’t even two minutes.” She cocked a brow on a laugh.

“No, it wasn’t.” I slid my hand over her thigh, dipping underneath her skirt. “Give me thirty seconds.”

34

Monroe

After the carnival, I left Zepp’s to run home and grab some clothes. The trailer park was dark, aside from the red and white lights flashing over the trailers. For a second, I hoped the cops were coming to arrest Jerry for killing that guy, but the farther into the park I drove, I realized the lights coming from in front of my trailer weren’t from a police car, but from an ambulance.

I parked in front of the neighbor’s driveway, gripping the steering wheel on a hard breath before I cut the engine and hopped out. She had overdosed again, and I wasn’t sure what was more concerning: that this was so routine or that I had become numb to the idea of her dying. I rounded the back of the ambulance while the paramedics carted a stretcher through the trailer door, then down the steps.

“She OD’d?” I asked.

One of the medics glanced over at me. “This your mom?”

I nodded, and I didn’t miss the flash of pity in his eyes. Another poor trash kid with a junkie mom. They probably saw ten a day. “We’re taking her to hospital. You’re welcome to ride in the back of the ambulance.”

My gaze strayed to my mother in the middle of the stretcher, eyes rolled back in her head, foam on her purple lips. “No, I’m good.” The confused look the medic gave me sent a twinge of guilt through me. “I’ll just follow you there.”

I trailed behind the ambulance to Dayton hospital, gave my name to the triage nurse, and took a seat in the waiting room with the rest of the gangbangers and addicts. This was her third overdose this year, so I knew the drill. Within the hour, the doctor would come and tell me whether he’d managed to save her this time or not.

An hour passed, then two. My leg bounced while a tightness wound through my chest. I told myself that I didn’t care. That the feeling in my chest was because I needed her not to die so I wasn’t homeless. I needed a distraction. I took my phone from my pocket to text Zepp. My battery was on one percent. Of course.

Me: I can’t come over tonight.

As soon as I sent it, the screen went black.

“Miss James?”

I looked up at the middle-aged man lingering in the emergency room doorway, his gaze scanning over the people waiting.

I pushed to my feet, and he offered me a polite smile before guiding me to a corner of the room.

“Your mother had a cardiac arrest. She’s stable for now. You can go and see her if you wish.”

I gave him a nod, and he walked me through the automatic doors, asking one of the nurses to take me to the ICU. The lady didn’t say a word, just showed me through several sets of doors until I came to the room with my mom’s last name written in Expo marker over the board.


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