Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
The question came loaded with far too many repercussions to sort through.
Arthur grabbed my wrist, pulling me close. “I mean that there’s so much going on that I need to explain, but first I need to get this straightened out. Then we need to see Wallstreet.”
I didn’t want to go see him. What would I say? How would I hide the anger I felt?
“Prez?” Grasshopper appeared from a side door that presumably led into either an office or bedroom off the main sitting area.
“Hopper.” Arthur nodded. “Did you get everything I asked?”
“I tried, but I’m still confused. You need to start talking, dude.”
Arthur didn’t let me go, dragging me toward Grasshopper.
His blue eyes landed on mine; his mohawk bristled. “What’s she doing here? I thought you took her to the buyer?”
“Nice to see you, too,” I huffed.
Grasshopper cringed. “I didn’t mean it like that… not exactly.” A smile tugged his mouth as he looked me up and down. “I take it lies weren’t lies after all?” His gaze landed on Arthur, happiness glowing for his friend.
Art said, “She’s staying with me. I made a mistake. From now on you treat her with the same respect you treat me. She’s mine, wears my patch, and will eventually be my old lady.”
My heart smacked against my ribs. I couldn’t breathe.
It seemed neither could Grasshopper. He punched himself in the chest as he coughed. “Fuck, dude! You mean she’s her? Her her? Fuck!” He took a step toward me, energy bursting from him.
My mind skipped, overwhelmed with the declaration of being Art’s, and being elevated to power in just one order.
“But your name is Sarah. That wasn’t her name.” His attention turned to Arthur. “Am I missing something?”
“It seems I have two names—or two identities.” Two lives? Too many things to remember before they made sense.
Grasshopper paused, his mouth hanging open. “So… you are her? The infamous Kill has performed a miracle and brought the dead girl back to life?” He swiped a hand over his face. “Fuck, this isn’t making sense.”
Arthur chuckled, the respect he had for his second in charge obvious in his eyes. “Her name is Cleo, possibly Sarah, too, but we need to confirm that. I didn’t bring her back to life, but she’s back in my world and never leaving.”
Grasshopper’s gaze flew wide. “Holy fuck. This is insane.” He looked between us. “But… how? I don’t…”
I laughed.
His amazement was comical. Plus, I didn’t doubt he felt a little self-conscious for having stepped over the line and told me things about Arthur he probably shouldn’t have. “Nice to meet you, Jared. I’m Cleo.” I stuck my hand out.
Grasshopper’s face darkened. “Fuck, you know my name, too. Witchcraft, I tell you.” Taking my hand, he shook it once, pulling me close. “I must know everything so my brain doesn’t explode.”
“You and me both.” I laughed again.
Arthur grabbed my hips, pulling me away from Grasshopper with a stern look. “What I want to know is how Cleo came into our possession.”
My laughter faded as Arthur’s voice drifted into strict business. “Explain to me where she was taken, who stole her, and what the fuck was the bullshit someone told me of her being his whore?”
My head snapped up. “What?” I looked between the two men. “Whose whore? I was nobody’s—”
Arthur cringed. “Nothing. I was told a lie about who you are in order for me to go ahead with the sale. I want to know who came up with it, so he can answer my goddamn questions.”
Grasshopper shifted on the spot. “Bazza. He told me that he got her from the Dagger’s, along with the other girls and she’d been in his bed. His bed, dude. I mean—it couldn’t be more of a fucking slight now that we know.”
Oh my God. My head. It couldn’t continue on like this, with half-truths, vague recollections, and hidden agendas. “Will someone please tell me what the hell all of this means?”
Grasshopper looked to Arthur, sharing a look that spoke volumes but remaining silent with answers.
Ignoring me, Arthur balled his hands. “You do realize I will get to the bottom of this, and when I do, I hope to fuck those I trust aren’t involved.”
The room’s oxygen wassucked into a vacuum. Grasshopper turned cold and menacing. He morphed into a biker with a vendetta—just like his president. “Someone has to have been working us from the inside. Shit.” He dragged hands through his hair, messing up his mohawk till it stood up in every which way. “Fuck!”
Arthur matched his anger with his livid face and highly strung muscles. “I want to know who, Hopper. And I want to know now.”
Fear charged down my back; I wanted to run from their palpable energy building like a cyclone. Lighter Boy. It was him.
Before I could announce my epiphany, Arthur muttered, “The complications and consequences of this are gonna bring everything we’ve been working toward to an end.”