Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 321(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“Okay, well, are you going to work today?” she asks, looking at my clothes scattered all over the place.
“No, I’ve taken the day off.” She doesn’t ask why, and I’m thankful. I haven’t spoken to Brody yet about what I found out, and I guess now I should. Getting up from my bed, I walk out with Merci next to me and address Brody, “How did you get the job working for Lucas?”
His gaze flicks up to us, then lowers. “I was offered it.”
“Where were you?” I dig a little further.
“Walking home from school. A few of my friends knew who he was, but none ever spoke to him. He called me over and then offered me a job.” He shrugs.
“How did he know who you were?” I ask.
“No idea. But, Chanel, you shouldn’t worry about that. He pays well, and we’re doing way better for ourselves now. Aren’t you happy with that?” he argues back.
“I’m going to go for a walk,” I tell him without answering his question.
I don’t know why Lucas would want me, or why he’s after me because it’s clear he is. You don’t just hire someone’s brother for no reason. Lucas is a man with a motive, and I have a feeling the only way I’m going to get to that motive is the same way I got it out of Marcus.
Fuck. Poor Marcus.
At least Lucas can’t kill himself if I use him.
But is it really using him if I enjoy it? That right there is the dilemma.
Wrapping my arms around my waist, I stop when I see a familiar car parked out front of my building.
“Perfect timing.” He smiles.
“Not really, stalking doesn’t look good on you.”
He turns slowly in a circle, as if to show himself off. “You don’t think so?” He raises a brow when he’s facing me again.
“No, still doesn’t look good.” This man is unbelievable.
He walks to the passenger side of the car, opens the door, and nods for me to get in.
“That’s a no.”
“Get in, Chanel. It’s time we talk.” I scoff at him and go to head back to my apartment when his voice stops me. “Chanel, get in! And I may think about deleting that photo.”
“I deleted it already.”
“You did, but you didn’t get to the deleted folder in time. Now, what do you say? Will you get in?” He waves to the open door, and because I really want that photo gone, I stalk over and get in. He shuts the door behind me, shoots me a wink as he walks around to his side, then slides in. I think about all the ways I want to kill him.
“Where are we going? I don’t have a phone.”
“I got you a new one.” He places a box with a new iPhone on my lap.
“I don’t want one of those. I don’t even know how to use it.” I try to give it back to him, but he just pushes it back into my hands as he drives.
“Take the damn phone.”
“No.”
“It’s yours. Do as you wish with it.”
“Okay.” So I roll my window down and throw the box out onto the road.
Lucas slams on his brakes and turns so he’s fully facing me. “Did you really just throw a brand-new iPhone out the fucking car window?”
“You told me to do what I want with it. I didn’t want it, so…” I shrug.
“Fucking hell, you infuriate me.”
“Ditto,” I bite back.
Lucas shakes his head and drives off. “You need a new phone.”
“No, you think I need a new phone. The one I have works perfectly fine.”
“Yours is something my grandparents probably had, that’s how old it is.”
“If you say so.” I cross my arms over my chest and sink into the seat. He has the seat warmers on, so my ass is nice and toasty.
It isn’t long until he pulls over and gets out. He comes around to my door, opening it and waiting for me. I take my time just to piss him off, looking around and realizing that I don’t even know where we are. I don’t think I’ve been in this neighborhood before, but it’s not far from where I live. The houses here are a little run down, but not as much as my neighborhood.
“Come on.” I get out with a huff, and he shuts the door, locking it before walking down a sidewalk to a single-story house. He glances back at me when he reaches the blue door. “Do you plan to stand out here all day?”
“Depends. Where are we?” I ask.
“My house,” he says, pushing the front door open. This is nothing like Keir’s house or anything like where I thought Lucas would live. This place has mowed lawns and flower beds. It’s old, but it’s cute, and it has a front porch with a swing. Glancing at the house next to his, I see it’s completely run down, so much so it looks like the outside walls are about to peel off and crumble.