Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“You’re lucky. I think most people only find one or two people in their entire life that they trust that deeply.” I had one, and she’s gone.
Poe puts his arm around my shoulders. “You got us.”
“For now. Because I’m going to pay you.” Do I sound bitter? I think I sound bitter.
“Baby, think about it. If we didn’t want to help, do you really think any amount of money woulda made us stick around?” He squeezes me. “We take the jobs we fucking want to.”
I look up at him, tracing his jawline with my eyes right back to where the scar on his neck is. Before I think too hard about it, I reach up and touch it, brushing his black hair out of the way as I trace the pale white line with my fingertips, right next to the dragon tattoo that comes up from his back. “That looks like it was a close call.”
He grabs my hand, holding a little too hard before he relaxes his fist.
“Sorry.”
“Nah, I’m sorry. It was…” He tugs the elastic out of his hair and runs his fingers through it, letting the dark strands fall over the scar. “Let’s just say that someone I shoulda been able to trust gave it to me as a going away present.” The texture of his calluses is rough, but it makes him feel real. He lets go.
I don’t know why I do it, but I stick my hand right back into the fire and trace the line again, more carefully this time. His coal black eyes watch me closely. His pulse thrums under my fingers, a steady beat that’s slowly picking up speed. His hand slides down to my side, right above my hip, getting a good grip.
“We probably shouldn’t…” Shouldn’t what?
He puts a hand under my jaw and tilts it up, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Maybe we should. I think I like where this is going.” He touches his lips to the tip of my nose with a soft kiss. “I'd rather taste your pretty lips, though. Is that what you want?”
Maybe it's the adrenaline that's still coursing through me, but I want something physical to connect with. To actually feel I'm all right. To feel like I matter to someone in even a little of the way he’s talking about. I wet my lips, and his eyes drop just a moment to watch before his mouth is slanted over mine and I’m practically crawling into his lap.
Just as his hand starts to slide up the back of my shirt and our tongues come together, a boom shakes the ground. We wrench apart. Wide-eyed, I grab his arms and gasp. “What was that?”
“Sorry about that!” Crank shouts. “Tank blew a little harder than expected.”
A moment later, he and Savage come around the corner. They are covered in blood, dust and now streaks of black soot, but they’re looking pleased with themselves.
“The bodies and the van are dealt with, at least until someone decides to check their dental records. We should get the fuck outta here.” Savage tilts his head, looking between me and Poe. He raises an eyebrow. I pull a little farther away and take a gulp of water that goes down the wrong way and sets off a coughing fit. “Everything good here?”
“Perfect.” Poe nudges me to stand, then follows. He leaves his hand on my hip, like he's making a claim. “Let's go.”
13
SAVAGE
“This is where we split up. You and Poe are going to the club,” I order. “Me and Crank will go watch your uncle’s place and see what we learn.”
Paige starts to interrupt but I hold up a hand.
“No, you can’t go with us. This is purely informational. I’m not fucking taking the risk of you deciding to walk up and ring your uncle’s doorbell because things are moving too slow for your tastes.”
“Fine,” she says with a frustrated pout. “But even if he’s involved with dangerous people, he’s an accountant. What’s he going to do with the three of you here?”
We're at the far end of her uncle’s street near a small artificial pond. The sun's just gone down, leaving us in a dusk that's turning dark real quick. Every bone in my body wants to go back to the club, scrub off the top layer of skin and go to sleep, but instead we’re going to go case her asshole uncle’s house because it’s between us and the club, and I don’t want to have to drive the hour back over here for shits and giggles in the morning.
“Paige, money laundering like you described reeks of the Mafia.” Crank leans against his bike, keeping his weight on the seat and letting the kickstand pick up the slack. The depth of his growl shows his frustration. “And it sounds like it’s been going on for a while. If your uncle's getting million dollar deliveries on a regular basis, he’s in deep. I’m not worried about what an accountant can do, but it’s smart to worry about what kind of trouble an accountant for the mob can get us into. Maybe we can sort all of this out quickly, but we need to get the lay of the land first.”