Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 409(@200wpm)___ 327(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Masked men. Who does that?
I draw a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart as I slowly sip the wine. The red liquid soothes my nerves marginally.
I force myself away from the window with a sigh, deciding to ignore them for tonight. It’s not like I really have a choice in the matter.
I mean… I could run. But the fact that they wear masks—the same masks you wear during The Hunt—tells me all I needed to know.
If I run, they will chase.
Chapter 17
Fiora
The burger joint is loud, which is a good thing, because it drowns out the memories of Braken and my masked stalkers who, though they are no longer wearing masks, are nearby. They were watching me when I left the cottage to walk over to Main Street for my meeting.
My body is still buzzing. I’m so wound up from everything swirling in my mind that I snapped at the waiter who offered me a solo table. As soon as I left Braken’s office yesterday, I called Marco and asked to meet for lunch. He was a bit hesitant at first, not wanting to travel all the way to Heathens Hollow, but eventually said he’d come as soon as possible.
I’ve been waiting ten minutes, and each feels worse than the last. Marco and I are unspoken. There was a time in college when we messed around a few times. Stolen kisses here, some fingering and blowjobs there. But we never went all the way and could never make it official.
“Your dad would kill me if he found out,” Marco said, laughing when I asked him to be the one to take my virginity. “I want to do this the proper way. Get his blessing and all. You’re worth waiting for, Fiora.”
Thanks to this ring on my finger now, it will never happen.
Fuck, the ring.
“Fiora!”
I turn to see Marco approaching, hand raised in a happy wave. Before I greet him, I knock the engagement ring off my finger with my nail and stuff it into the pocket of my jeans jacket. He doesn’t need to know about the engagement yet. If he does, we’ll get sidetracked. Right now, the most important thing is finding who killed Mason.
I stand to give him a hug and let him hug me for just a bit longer. He’s not as tall or sturdy as Braken, and he smells like cigarettes that he chain-smokes when he doesn’t have any leads.
A vision of Braken’s cock pressed against my thigh flashes through my mind and I must clench my thighs to stop the aching. Goddamnit. Now is not the time for this.
“Sorry, was working on something,” Marco says when he lets me go. He offers an apologetic smile. “Been waiting long?”
“If I waited any longer, the waiters were going to give me a pity drink on the house,” I joke and retake my seat.
He takes the chair across from me and shrugs off his jacket. “Oof, that bad, huh?”
“I think that means you now owe me a pity drink.”
“Sure, but I get to choose.”
After the waiter comes and takes our drink and appetizer order, I lean my elbows on the table and smile at him.
“Thanks for coming. I know things have been hectic lately.”
I need to get him talking about Mason’s murder so I can glean any information he has. But I don’t want to make it seem like I’m just using him for it. I enjoy his company, and right now, I need a friend to confide in. We sit in silence, taking in our surroundings as the awkwardness grows.
As soon as the waitress sets down our beers, Marco takes a large swig and smiles.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve had a meal together like this.”
“That’s because some of us are busy working our way up the ladder,” I tease, pushing my beer to the side. I’m not a big beer fan but it’ll go well with the fried goodness I ordered for lunch. “Is that promotion any closer?”
“Should be.” Marco sighs and sets down his already half-empty beer. “But there’s always someone who’s a friend of a friend who could get chief before me.”
The police and the mob aren’t too different in that regard. It’s all about who you know and with whom you place your loyalty. One wrong move, and you’re up shit creek without a paddle.
“I’m sure you’ll get it. There’s no one who works harder than you.” I sigh wistfully, placing my chin in my palm. “It honestly feels like yesterday that we were even talking about you becoming a police officer.”
“Are you getting sentimental on me, Fiora?” Marco jokes, reaching over the table to flick my nose with his finger. “Thinking about yesteryear?”
I scrunch my nose and lean back. I hate when he does that, but he never listens. We return to awkward silence, and I wonder if it’s always been this way between us. Hard.