Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
She steps back. “Oh my god. I’ve always wanted a big sister. This is awesome to have someone else around my age, since all the women here are old as fuuuccckk!”
“Hey! You little fucking shit!” someone else calls out, rounding the back of the house with one hand on her hip. “One day, I’ma whip your ass.”
“Bitch, please. You love me and you know it.” Silver gestures to me. “It’s Sicko’s sister! Look how pretty she is!”
The older woman rolls her eyes, coming closer to me. “Ignore Silver. She’s so used to being a brat that she forgets she’s seventeen.”
Silver flips her off. “Lion is clearly not hitting you right, or are you going through menopause?”
The woman ignores her, keeping her eyes on mine. Her skin is beautiful for her age, but her eyes tell a story of how much they’ve seen. “I’m Bonnie, Lion’s wife.”
“Hi,” I say, crossing my arms in front of myself. Lion is scary. I can’t imagine this woman putting up with him.
Silver hooks her arm in mine. “Oh this is awesome. Bea is going to be so pissed when she sees you. I mean, I get that you’re his sister, but it’s foster, and you’re insanely hot! Bea is going to hate you.” I don’t know who she’s talking about and I’m not sure I want to know. I just want a bed and food. Food will be good. Where the fuck is Royce?
We climb the stairs that lead to the back porch and sunroom. Yelawolf “Psychopath Killer” is thudding through the house as I turn to shut the door behind me. Spinning back around, I freeze when I see Royce, Wicked, Lion, and Gypsy. They’re all seated around a small table with drinks in their hands, with Royce looking tense. A blonde girl is on his lap, a joint between his fingers. There are a couple of girls in here actually, all dressed different to Silver and Bonnie. More exposed.
“Oh, this is going to be great,” Silver whispers, leaning into me. “Just saying, after you throw the first punch, I’m going in.” I want to squeeze her and say I’m not fighting anyone.
The blonde flicks her fake long hair over her shoulder, her brown eyes coming to mine. “Aw, is this your sister?” Her smile seems sincere, and for a split second, I wonder what Silver was talking about. Until Silver opens her mouth.
Silver grins at—who I’m guessing is Bea. “Foster.”
I watch as her smile switches to a scowl and she looks at me with newfound competition.
Bonnie flicks her fingers at the three of them. “Get out of here. Go rub on someone out there.”
Bea runs her finger down Royce’s face. “Aw, I can stay, right, baby?”
Royce’s eyes are on mine, his jaw as tight as my fist. He hates the word baby. I’ve always known that, so I can’t help the smirk that creeps on my mouth. This girl is nothing but a dick warmer, or she would know that Royce hates that word.
His eyes narrow when he catches my smirk. Licking his lips, he bares his teeth at her and chews on her neck. “B is right, babe. Go ahead, I’ll grab you when I’m going to bed.” I fight the obvious distaste that that leaves in my mouth as Bonnie takes my hand and gestures to the empty seat beside Wicked, leaving Royce’s smug, scowl-ridden face right opposite mine.
Bastard.
“Now, are you a vodka, gin, or rum girl?” Bonnie asks, moving around glasses in the cupboard.
Royce smirks at me. “She’s a water girl.”
I raise my brows at him in challenge, feeling the heat of Wicked beside me. Why do I feel him so deeply? “Actually, I’m more a whiskey girl now.” I smile up at Bonnie. “Royce forgets that he doesn’t know me anymore.”
Lion chuckles from the other side of the table. “Girl’s gonna drive you mad, son.”
As Bonnie sets the glass in front of me, I take in the room we’re in. Looks like a second kitchen area, more private than the rest of the house. The paint is old, furnishings look to be a hundred years old, but the photos hanging in frames all over the walls catch my attention more than anything else.
I take a sip of my whiskey, relishing in the burn it ignites over my lips. A photo catches my eye behind Royce as I run my tongue over my lips to suck the residue. “It’s good, thank you, Bonnie.” The photo is of a man holding a baby, a bandana tied around the front of his head. Standing in front of his bike. He looks like a proud dad. Something every child wishes they had, which is probably why it caught my attention. Something I wish I had.
“Are you boys going to sit in here all night or are you gonna go tend to your guests?” Bonnie says as Silver takes a seat on the other side of me. I can feel the heat of both Wicked and Royce’s stare on me. They’re both different, but one. A gang on their own. It’s weird to witness, because the last time I saw Royce, the only people I could see him having that kind of bond with was Orson and Storm.