Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110116 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“Just everyone relax.” I look around at all three of them. None look happy. Even Ammo’s smart-ass smirk is gone—he sits with arms crossed.
“Gia’s not going to call Axel, and the Disciples aren’t going to kill us. Stop acting like a pussy, Nuke.” I take a big swig and breathe out fumes, instantly feeling better.
“Really? Well, I hope to God what I just heard is not true, because if it is, then we have a problem.” Rafe holds up his cell. “That was Deborah.” He waves his phone. “Apparently there’s a video of you and her in the elevator last night.”
My eyes bolt up to his face.
“I can see by your expression it’s true. Deborah saw the tape. The woman is easily identified. What do you want to do?”
I put the bottle down and look up at the ceiling as I laugh at how in a matter of twelve hours the Brat has caused more drama than I’ve had in years.
“Pay them off and get it shut down,” I snarl, replaying her face as she came.
“Goddamn, Granger, what do they have?” Nuke stares at me, his hand clenched, and at this point I wouldn’t even mind if he comes at me. At least it would distract me from the repercussions of last night.
“Apparently, they have actual footage of Granger and Gia last night.” Rafe says all this as he turns away to talk on the phone.
“This is unbelievable.” Nuke comes at me, only for Ammo to stop him.
“Granger, this is unlike you. You need to clean up your shit.” And that’s all he says. I almost laugh again, like they’re enlightening me on this. Of course, this is messy. Look who’s involved.
I take a breath, blocking out Rafe screaming in the background about how much money they want, and that it doesn’t matter how much Entertainment Tonight wants to pay. Rafe is the cheapest man alive, so having to pay people off is like getting fucked in the ass for him.
“Why is she here, Nuke? Tell me how it is that a girl I haven’t seen in years just shows up fully grown, almost naked, in a club with you. How?” I demand.
“She’s here to get a scholarship. I thought you knew.” He sits down and looks out the window, shaking his head as he probably pieces together that he got played and outsmarted by one Gia Fontaine.
I roll my eyes. “Of course, she is.” But before I can say more, I sense her. For some fucked-up reason, I’m connected with her. If the music that’s playing in my head is any warning, I know I shouldn’t turn around. This is what happens when I’m stressed and fed up. The music helps.
So, I turn and stare into the greenest eyes.
She’s forbidden.
And devious.
I’ve never wanted anyone more.
GIA
Past – Eighteen years old
Seattle, Washington
My heart races as I stare at the bathroom door, incredulous. I reach for the door handle but hear a loud “What in ever-loving fuck is happening?” and pull back as if I’ve been burned. Maybe I have with the amount of cursing going on out there.
This is a disaster. How did it spiral so fast? I mean, last night was not what I envisioned but still, he was connected, if a little inebriated, but whatever. Suddenly I don’t feel well. I need to breathe, maybe take a shower. What the hell?
A door slams, causing me to scream and gag at the same time. The bile that’s been threatening to come up is unfortunately doing its thing.
I reach for the toilet seat, barely making it before I heave, emptying my stomach. The smell of champagne and whatever I ate yesterday stings my eyes. I’m sweating, so I know it’s not over.
Seconds that seem like hours tick by, my body stiff and frozen, praying for this to be over. This is absolutely the last time I drink. If I can make it through this, I’ll never take a drop of—annnd here it comes again. I lean over and retch out the last of my hopes and dreams.
“God.” I lay my head on my hand, which rests on the toilet, truly grateful that Rhys can afford five-star hotels with spotless bathrooms. At long last, the world stops spinning and I stand, feeling like I’ve just run a marathon and dehydration has set in.
I rest my hips on the cool marble sink, and twist my disgusting, puke-scented hair off my face. I feel like shit. Why? Why did I let Nuke talk me into those shots last night?
“Okay.” I breathe out. This is not ideal, but not a complete nightmare. Now that I’ve eliminated all the poisons, I can somewhat function. My mind instantly reviews my options. One wrong move and I’ll be kicked out of here.
I stink of sex and throw-up. A shower is a must before I can tackle all that’s happening out there.