Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Naturally perfect with a healthy dollop of class, that was Lula.
Those real emerald-cut diamond studs at her ears were her Christmas bonus from the Murphy brothers last year.
Extravagant.
But when she made it possible for them to hide their illegal income, yeah, they rightly spoiled her for it.
“What are you still doing in town?” Lula asked, voice all honey, as she went to the soda gun to get herself some ginger ale.
I wasn’t sure I had ever seen her drink, actually.
Ginger ale was her poison.
With a lime wedge in it.
If she was having a hard day, she would pop some maraschino cherries in them instead.
We worked in close quarters, but we hadn’t ever bonded the way I had with Delaney when she was still working at The Bog.
Lula just kind of kept to herself in her office.
Except, of course, when Raff wanted to lavish her with compliments for an hour straight.
“Oh, you know I simply can’t stand to be away from you, you ravishing creature, you,” he said, reaching out for her hand. “You know the only thing that could make this hand prettier is a ring right here,” he said, tapping her ring finger.
“Let me guess. You are the guy who is gonna put one there,” Lula said, but she didn’t pull her hand away, not even when Raff slipped his fingers in between hers.
“Absolutely. The day you decide you can’t see a future with anyone else but me, I will slip one on.”
“You might be waiting a long time then,” she told him, but she had kind eyes when she said it.
“Alright. What’s his name? Who am I dueling?”
“Dueling? What is this? The seventeenth century?” Lula asked.
“He’s not worthy of you, whoever he is.”
“My imaginary boyfriend?” Lula asked, rolling her eyes. “He leaves me in peace,” she said.
“Oh, but you deserve better than peace. Adoration. Adventure.”
“There’s nothing better than peace,” Lula countered, finally pulling her hand free. “I have work,” she said, giving him a smile that wasn’t as warm as it had been, then turning and walking into the back.
“She loves me,” Raff declared, taking the drink I offered him. “She just doesn’t know it yet.”
He said it with such conviction that I almost believed him as he turned to go back to his party.
I pretended not to notice him.
Slash.
But of course I did.
I swear I could tell when the man was in the room even without actually seeing him. It was like his presence charged the air. Or like there was just some sort of string connecting the two of us, tugging a bit when he was in close proximity.
Which sounded cheesy and romantic and nothing at all like our arrangement was, but it was the truth nonetheless.
We hadn’t hooked up since that last time in the hotel after finding the first batch of drugs at my door.
And that whole inviting him to stay afterward nightmare.
What had I been thinking?
Ugh.
“Nyx,” Chet called, making me realize he was still watching me.
“I’m fine. Good,” I corrected, knowing any man in his right mind knew that no woman was ever fine. “I’ve just had a rough couple of days,” I told him. “It will blow over. It always does.”
Except, of course, that I’d never been potentially hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to the fucking Bulgarian crime organization.
It was my own fault.
I mean, I’d panicked.
Putting the drugs in a public space.
I mean, seriously.
I should have stopped, given it two actual moments of consideration, and come up with literally any other plan than the one I had.
True, the sheds were really just a dumping ground. But they weren’t locked. Anyone could mosey into there and look around for stuff to take.
And then luck upon several kilos of very profitable drugs.
I was not a stupid person. But fear could make a person do really idiotic things. Now I would have to figure out how to get myself out of this situation.
I was irreparably screwed if they wanted four hundred grand from me. But I could maybe work out a plan to pay them back for the forty.
I wasn’t making insane money. It was a small town. And most people, aside from the bikers, Murphys, and the Russians, no one was making bank. So tips weren’t as good as they would be in a different, more populated area.
But I could get a second job.
I could, I don’t know, sell pictures of my feet.
Or tell sub dudes they were pathetic pieces of shit not worthy of my time for a few bucks.
There was all kinds of money to be made if you were open enough to all the options to do so.
I could figure it out.
But if it was the four hundred?
Fuck.
“Nyx,” a familiar voice called, the sound shivering over my skin in a way that I knew I wasn’t supposed to like as much as I did.