Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35660 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 143(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
“Are you feeling alright?” My hand cups the nape of her neck, lifting her head up until our gazes are locked. A tear tracks down her face, the mascara she put on this morning leaving smudges around her outer edges of her eyes.
“I’m okay. Are you?”
“You’re not, and neither am I. I’ve got to another call to make, then you have all my attention. I promise I’ll let you know what’s going on.” I dip my head, lips skimming along hers, my own need for her so strong, it doesn’t matter where we are, the slip of my tongue gets one taste, and I’m taking our kiss further than what I thought I would. Time ceases to exist. We both need this moment. She needs my undivided attention after having a traumatic experience with Governor Dick Bag, and I, well, I’m a selfish son of a bitch. I’ll take anything Fawn is willing to give.
“Sly.” My fingers grip the hair at the base of her neck. I love it when she wears it long and loose.
“We’ll continue this, and soon. Stay where you are.” She goes to say something, opening her mouth then closing it when I tack on, “Please.” She nods, and I’m scooping my phone up, unlocking the screen, scrolling through my contacts until I find Wyatt’s and tap it. This time, I’m not putting it on speakerphone. Fawn will get the answers from me and only me.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Sterling,” Wyatt answers on the first ring, the reason why he makes the big bucks within my firm on and off the clock.
“The situation has escalated. Dig up every single thing you can about Governor Wescott, no stone unturned. Any skeletons in his closet, I want them, and yesterday.” Wyatt is silent on the other end of the line, digesting what I’m finally ready to go after.
“Fuck yeah. I’ve been waiting for this day. Give me twenty-four to forty-eight hours, max.” Telling Wyatt to go ahead and dig deeper and faster, without worrying about the repercussions, is like giving a dog a bone. We’ve been trying to lay low, unsure on how to spin this, how far Boston was willing to go. Well, now I’m done. Wescott’s gone too far, and it’s time for him to pay the piper.
“Thanks, I appreciate it, Wyatt.”
“It’s what I’m paid to do. Keep your phone near. I’ll call when I have everything.” I hang up the phone, ready to talk to Fawn about what we’re about to be up against.
“Governor Wescott is dabbling in illegal dealings.” No sooner are those words out than my office door is flying open.
“Cavalry’s here. Nessa, take care of the leading lady. Sly, let the women commune while us menfolk do our thing,” Theo announces. I’m shaking my head. Fawn’s shoulders are shaking; she’s trying to hold back her laughter. Leave it to Theo to break up the heaviness cloaking the room.
“You okay with Vanessa? I’ll be in the room the entire time,” I ask Fawn.
“Yes, I’ll be fine. You came when I needed you. It’s not your fault, just like my burns aren’t your fault. Accidents happen. Now go, because you’ve got some explaining to do sooner rather than later.” She uses her better wrist to shoo me away. It doesn’t go unnoticed how she’s keeping the hand Wescott manhandled lying on her lap.
“Easier said than done,” I reply.
“Get out of my way, Sly. Twice in one week. You two are full of surprises,” Vanessa interrupts. Millie must still be at work, or she’d be right in the thick of it with the rest of us.
“Thanks, Nessa.” Fawn’s head tips up. Already aware of what she wants, I let my lips meet hers, and then I’m heading toward Theo, Parker, and Ezra. No doubt Boston will be listening to our conversation via a phone call. Jesus, this week has been a clusterfuck.
SIXTEEN
Fawn
“The next time we all get together, it better be with drinks involved and at an hour that isn’t ungodly after working the nightshift,” Vanessa says once Sly is with the guys, pulling gloves out of her a small first-aid kit, sliding them on, and getting to work.
“Tell me about it. I’m sorry to keep taking away from your time off. I’d tell Sylvester I’m alright, but sadly, I don’t think that’s the case.” I grimace when she picks up my wrist.
“That hurts? Your burns are re-opened, which sucks, too, and this won’t feel good either.” She rotates my hand, doing this weird position that has me yelping out in pain. Worried that Sylvester will come running to save the day, or try to, I slap my hand over my mouth.
“You need X-rays. It’s not a sprain. And while I can redress your wounds, I can’t do anything for a fracture or a break. I’m sorry, Fawn.” The last time she helped me out, I told her about my aversion to hospitals. The only time I’ve been in a hospital is for being sick, tonsillitis when I was a young girl, broken collarbone when I fell off the ladder leading up to my treehouse. Coming home sucked, especially to see that your once safe place to read and hide out was destroyed. My father wasn’t having anything that could potentially hurt his girls, so yeah, my idea of a good time is not a hospital.