Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117443 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Chris' house was bigger. Two bedrooms, but still all on one floor, just like the rental. He'd probably prefer the little blue house, since it was smaller, and therefore was just fine for his needs. But there was no garage and there was no way he was parking his bike outside in winter.
Hayley Crystal Turner, or whatever the fuck she was calling herself, peeked into the kitchen, nodded to him, and high tailed it back to the living room, keeping a line to the door free and clear.
"The bedroom and bathroom are down the hall," he informed her and waited for her to edge her way past him to look. When he was behind her, he rolled his eyes skyward.
The bathroom was a tub/shower combo with one sink. She peeked in, same as the kitchen, and turned to open the closed bedroom door. It opened with just enough room to clear a small wall in front of it that was the side of the clothes closet. She stepped through the door, veered right and entered the room.
There was a double bed against the wall and a tall dresser in the corner. Again no TV. Chris didn't think it was necessary to point that out to her since it was obvious.
She backed up, accidentally running into him, and he moved out of the way so she could get back to the living room. "It's nice," she announced, but he couldn't tell if that was what she really thought. He didn't much care, though.
"No parties," he declared suddenly.
"Parties?" she asked. Chris was annoyed by the wide eyed innocent routine.
"No loud music. No large groups of people. Don't invite a bunch of people over and tell me it's not a party. If I can hear it, it's a party. Security deposit. I'll need one. $250. Can you swing that?" He didn't wait for an answer. "And no pets. You obviously don't have one now, staying at the Rainbow like you are. But don't come home with a dog. Or a cat. Or even so much as a goldfish. You got me?"
She stared at him. "Mr. Sullivan-"
Chris rolled his eyes again. Mr. Sullivan. Jesus. "Look, Slick-"
"Excuse me?" she asked, cutting him off.
"You heard me. Slick. As in, you are. Maria might be desperate enough to hire some girl off the street, but don't think you're going to play that Bambi shit with me." Her mouth dropped open. "Rent's due on the first of every month. I get it on the second, you're out. You break something, you're out. You throw a party, you're out.
"Maria talks a good game," he continued, "about not hiring homeless waifs out of the goodness of her heart, but she still does it. More'n I'd like. She thinks she can beat you at your game, if you have one. But I know I can."
Bambi Hayley Crystal whatever-the-fuck didn't even try to deny she had a game. She simply walked to the door, picked up her duffel bag, which had seen better days, and opened the front door.
"I don't think this is the right place for me, Mr. Sullivan," she said, smoothly. "Sorry you wasted your time."
And with that she left and Chris couldn't say he was all that sorry to see her go. He'd been stewing all day after he'd left Maria’s and driven the two blocks back to his garage where he worked on custom bikes. Maria had been bitten in the ass too many times over the years, but the economy was in the shitter. Even Chris was glad he'd kept the shop streamlined and saved most of what he'd earned. He only employed his boys, minus Caleb, who'd joined the RCPD when they got back from that last tour. He still helped out at the shop on weekends, though, for the hell of it.
Chris re-locked the front door, jogged back down the steps, and stopped on the sidewalk long enough to see Bambi Hayley Crystal walking back toward the Rainbow with her oversize duffel on her shoulder. It was twelve blocks to the motel and even though it wasn't dark out, that bag couldn't be all that easy for a 100 pound girl to haul. He took a step toward her, intending to call out to her, when he heard his cell phone ring.
He spared Bambi Hayley Crystal another glance and turned to pull out his phone.
*************************
Hayley wiped her eyes as she continued the trek to the Rainbow Motel. Slick. Fucking Slick. And it was true. Sort of. She'd put the bruises on her arm before boarding the bus because some people needed visual proof. She was playing them. That was true. But to survive. So her family would survive.
He might have been guessing. He might have been a naturally suspicious person. But, of course, when you're accused of something you technically are doing, you always felt as though you'd somehow given yourself away.