Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
She’s coming off the front porch by the time I make it back to my truck. I school my face, doing my best to hide the smile I catch in my reflection in the driver’s side window.
I honestly don’t know if continuing to fight the idea of her would even be beneficial at this point. I don’t have a way to predict how long this obsession with her will last, and it’s a first for me since I was a teen that I’m considering someone else in my decisions.
There’s a real chance I’ll use her up and discard her, but worrying about the aftermath is not usually part of my plan.
I hate that she’s different, even as much as I like that she’s the only thing I’ve found that silences the whispering ghosts in my head.
She’s silent on the drive to the office, almost as if she’s worried that speaking will make me change my mind.
When we arrive, I don’t bother looking back at her. She follows me to the door, and I knock before even attempting to pull the handle. The office is more of a front than anything, and the door is always locked, a sign hanging on it that notifies people that the business is by appointment only but doesn’t offer a way to contact them.
I nod my thanks when Madelene opens the doors, stepping aside so we can enter.
“Oh, hi,” she says at my back. “I’m Madelene.”
She doesn’t mention being related to me by blood. If my sister is still anything like she was when I vanished, that hurts her. Pride and loyalty in family was something we were both raised to value.
“Alani. I’m Ayla’s sister.”
“Nice to meet you.”
I try not to picture what my life would’ve looked like if Marcello hadn’t picked Maya for his initiation, but sometimes those thoughts sneak up. There’s no benefit in imagining her here. Thinking of the baby we would’ve had if it hadn’t been cut from her body before it had the chance to breathe doesn’t change the way things are.
I sweep my eyes around the room. Everyone but Fox has a woman with them, despite this being a business meeting. I do my best not to see Alani as my woman the way Nash sees her sister, but the connection is hard to deny when she comes to stand beside me and not her older sister.
I feel Lauren’s, Ayla’s, and Madelene’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look in any of their directions.
“Men,” Angel grunts before heading to the back.
We all turn and file out of the room, following him to his office.
“I called the meeting because I want to get everyone on the same page,” Angel begins the second the door is closed.
There are six trained psychos in this room, and just the proximity of other men who would rather slit a person’s throat than listen to excuses has a way of vibrating. It’s as if the energy can’t escape so it becomes a living breathing thing.
It makes me want to kill and maim, to torture and scar. Being around these men is dangerous for all of us. Feeding off their energy is what will get us killed or arrested.
“I know most of you don’t give a shit what you’re doing so long as you’re getting paid. This will be a paid job, but it’s also personal for several of us,” Angel continues.
“Cortez,” Hollis says, his lip pulling up in a sneer.
Angel verifies with a quick dip of his head. “He’s gearing up to open his next fun house.”
My skin itches with the need to slice that man’s skin from his body, piece by tiny piece until he goes insane from the pain.
I know that I wouldn’t be the one to kill him though.
Liam, Angel, and Nash have all been tattooed with numbers, making them the equivalent of cattle in Cortez’s eyes. I’m not sure what the first two men went through, but I know what Nash suffered and what Ayla suffered with him. The fact that Cortez sent a man after Alani and wasn’t exactly successful doesn’t give me more skin in the game.
“I want to work together to—”
“No,” Fox grunts. “I work alone.”
None of us argue or give the man shit for his declaration. If that’s how he operates, that’s just how it is. We’re what most would consider private contractors. If we don’t want a job, we turn it down.
I don’t know about everyone else because we all have our own shit that makes us do the things we do, but I do it first to feed that sick twisted part inside of me, and second, the money is great. I’d wager most of us do it for the payday, but Fox is a different breed from all of us.
“How much does it pay?” Fox asks, surprising all of us.