Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“What are you guys up to?” she asks, taking in the four of us as we loom near the pool table.
“Just trying to see who wants to give me all their money,” I say with a devilish smirk.
Her date grunts at that. “You two must be Jamie’s twins.”
The hairs on my neck prickle. Sloane did say Mom forced her into this date, but it still doesn’t sit right that this dude knows who we are.
While Sloane introduces us, I ignore the guy to rack the balls. It’s then I see one of the big guys—one with a bright red beard—from the corner sauntering my way. He gestures for me to come back over to his table. Leaving my group, I make my way over to him, chin high and shoulders relaxed. Every damn one of these men with their leather cuts and inked flesh is intimidating, but I’m not going to let them know that.
“Sup?”
“Prez thinks we should play a game with you and the princess.”
I follow his stare to our group that’s watching us with interest. “My sister kind of sucks. Are you sure you—”
Red Beard snorts. “No. The other princess. The one who can play based on how he watches everyone. That is, if his guard dog will let him.”
Tate.
He thinks Tate is a princess?
I almost burst into laughter. Tate’s an annoying shark when it comes to pool—with teeth, talent, and some serious shit-talking skills.
“What are we playing for?” I ask, leveling Red Beard with an apathetic look. “Your bike?”
His eyes narrow and anger flickers in them. “You even touch—”
“Of course we’ll play for the bike,” the older man, aka Prez, rumbles as he pulls out a cigarette from his pack. “But if we win…” He trails off as he fiddles with his lighter. Once he’s lit the cherry, he takes a second to inhale the smoke. Then he exhales, a wolfish grin curling his lips up. “If we win, I get to take the kitty cat for a ride on my bike.”
He wants to take Gemma for a ride?
Over my dead body. Fury gushes through my veins like hot lava and I’m seconds from telling this fucker where to shove it. Before I get the chance, Prez points two fingers at me, his cigarette held between the two.
“We’re not exactly asking. You’ll play for those terms.” He takes another drag, watching me like a cat with a canary trapped under his paw.
He’s fucking serious.
“Or what?” I demand, unable to keep the venom out of my tone.
“Or we’ll pay the pretty policewoman a visit later tonight.”
“Excuse me?” I curl my fingers into a fist, aching to knock this asshole’s teeth out. “Just who the fuck do you think you are?”
His guys crowd closer, but they don’t scare me. Prez finds my attitude amusing based on the wide grin he flashes me.
“Perhaps I should be asking you that very same question.” He steps closer, blowing another plume of smoke at me. “How’d you get the bruise?”
Slowly, the dots begin to connect. Those shitheads from last night must have tattled on me. Does that mean Trevor knows this brute? Is he selling for this ingrate?
“You see,” Prez says, waving his cigarette at me again. “I make it my business to know everyone in this town. You Parks weren’t a problem until you were.”
“You’re pissed I didn’t want to buy your dirty meth?” I bark out a scornful laugh. “Sorry, dude, but I’m not interested in that shit. I don’t see what the big fucking deal is.”
Prez glowers at me, the vein in his thick neck pulsating with anger. “The big fucking deal is you went straight to that cop’s house to report what happened. Now my business is in trouble because of you.”
Trevor or Charlie must’ve followed me back to Sloane’s house. I’ve put her in danger, and my sister too because somehow trouble always finds me.
“I’m no narc,” I spit out. “This is bullshit.”
“Put it to rest then,” Prez says with a one-shouldered shrug. “Play me and Bozo. First to rack up three wins will take home their prize.”
My sister isn’t a goddamn prize. But non-compliance means stepping aside for them to make good on their threat to mess with Sloane.
I have to play them.
And I have to fucking win.
“Let me grab my guy,” I bite out. “We’re getting this shit over with.”
The men in his little asshole gang all crack up laughing. I storm back over to my group, ignoring the concerned looks Sloane throws my way. Gemma bites on her bottom lip, eyebrows pinched. Jude and Tate both stand nearby, bodies tense, while Sloane’s date smiles goofily at me, completely unaware of the shit storm about to go down.
“It’s you and me, Tate,” I grit out, patting him on the arm. “Stakes are high. We can’t lose.”
Sloane breaks free from her loser guy and strides over to me. “What’s wrong?”