Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Neither do I,” Hannah admitted. “Sucks. All of it. And of course it happens right when I’ve finally met someone I like. We had a good thing started.”
“Look on the bright side,” I told her. “Maybe he’s a closet serial killer. For all we know, this is saving your life.”
Hannah laughed and bumped me with her shoulder. I rolled my eyes, then pushed myself up from the floor, reaching down to give her a hand.
We’d get through this.
We had to.
Chapter Sixteen
That night I had a bizarre dream that a leprechaun came to the house and peed in our milk, turning it green. Hannah laid out sticky glue traps and caught him. Then the girls tickled him with feathers until he was screaming for mercy.
He granted us three wishes.
We wished that Randy and his druggy friends would disappear, that we’d get a new house, and that they’d put in a fountain full of green milk down at the city park, because dreams are weird.
Sadly, when I woke up I was still living in a shithole that was probably drug contaminated. On the bright side, we were out of milk and had to drink hot chocolate for breakfast.
I decided to count that as a win.
After eating, Hannah and I sat on the porch and pretended nothing was wrong while we talked things over in hushed whispers. The girls played on the swing set, oblivious. When the little old lady who lived across the street came out to water her flowers, we gave her the usual smiles and waves—just like perfectly normal people living perfectly normal lives.
Unfortunately, we weren’t perfectly normal people and the leprechaun’s wishes had only been a dream. No matter how we looked at the situation, there were no easy answers. I had to stay put for the next four weeks or risk violating my probation. I could apply for a move, of course, but that meant finding a new place to live and a job ahead of time—not to mention coming up with an explanation that the Department of Corrections wouldn’t find suspicious. That would take time, planning and money.
Hannah and the girls would have to go without me.
We had some friends up north who’d probably take them in, at least for a while. I could stay here and take my chances. Sara wouldn’t mind me crashing on her couch for a few days.
“I’ll ride down to the bar,” I told Hannah. “Pick up that cash and talk to Bone. Ask him about an advance on my paycheck. He might be able to help.”
“Okay,” she said, looking as defeated as I felt. “You know, I hate this trailer and I hate Randy, but I’m really going to miss Violetta. I liked my job.”
“And Heath,” I added softly. “I know it’s a new thing with him, but he obviously makes you happy. What are you going to tell him?”
She shrugged, her face sad. “I’ll think of something. It probably wouldn’t have worked out anyway. I have three kids—what man wants to take that on?”
I squeezed her shoulder, wishing I could fix it. Then I fetched my little backpack purse, grabbed my bike and started pedaling toward the bar. Two minutes later I hit the railroad tracks wrong and nearly crashed, skidding across the gravel.
Even the roads in this place sucked.
Unlike Hannah, I couldn’t wait to put Violetta behind me. I wasn’t even sure where I wanted to go when I left. In some ways, I didn’t care. I just wanted to be free to enjoy life for a while, without constantly looking over my shoulder.
I’d passed through town and was nearly to the Pit when I heard the sound of a motorcycle in the distance. Then it drew closer, turning around the corner toward me, and I realized there were actually two of them.
Shade and his faithful companion, Dopey the Giant.
Dopey fell back as Shade veered across the road, blocking me. For an instant I considered trying to go around him. Pointless. Instead, I cruised to a stop as he cut his engine, because a confrontation was the last thing I needed.
“Where are you going? We need to finish our talk from last night.”
“I needed to run by the bar,” I told him, focusing my gaze on the patches listing his name and office. All of the Reapers wore patches on their leather vests. According to Bone, they were part of the code the bikers used to communicate with each other. Some of them were simple—names and towns. Others held secret meanings I’d never been able to figure out.
“Why?” he asked, and I could tell he was digging in for a fight. Crap. I didn’t have time for this.
“Some dumbass left five hundred dollars there. Figured I might as well go pick it up.”
Shade didn’t smile, cocking his head to look at me, his stare piercing.