Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
All I knew was it was good to see.
“There’s my favorite working girl,” Traveler said as Cammie moved inside.
“Way to make me sound like a prostitute,” Cammie said, shaking her head as she accepted the coffee that Traveler already had prepared for her.
“I’m sorry, is this yours?” Cammie asked, waving toward the bag sitting on the chair at the table beside ours.
“Yep. Sorry about that,” Nino said, grabbing the bag he’d put there to save the table, and putting it by his feet.
“I haven’t met you yet,” she said, giving him a soft smile as she sat so her back was to the window. That way, anyone looking would see us speaking—presumably to each other—and her just sitting there at her table.
“Nino,” Nino told her.
“The eldest brother,” she said.
Because, well, some nights when I called, the conversation stopped being entirely about Colin and his organization, and started being more about little details of our lives.
Like her rough childhood, and the way she’d needed to sort of be a mother to her brothers since her own was dealing with her own mental health and substance abuse struggles.
Like my brothers and sister and our loud, crazy get-togethers.
I couldn’t tell you when or how things went from professional to something… else. But I found myself glad whenever the conversation shifted.
She came alive when she talked about her life before Colin, about her hopes and dreams after she was free from him.
And coming from such an unstable home, she seemed to relish in the stories about my over-the-top, but loving one.
“Is Rizzo getting any more tolerable?” I asked.
“She’s having a harder time finding reasons to yell at me now. But she actually had to leave early today,” Cammie said, smiling, clearly proud of how quickly she was mastering her job. It had to feel good after not having any way to accomplish anything for years.
“Who are you working with then?”
“Carmine,” she said, meaning Colin’s father. “He’s a lot easier to get along with. He actually told me to take an hour break because he was ‘sure I needed it’.”
“Hey, Travs,” August called, making the woman in question turn around with a glower that made my balls shrink a little and she wasn’t even shooting it in my direction. I was going to go ahead and guess that she wasn’t a fan of the nickname.
“What do you want now? To bitch about the balance of foam to cream to caramel in your drink?”
“Actually, I was wondering if there was a back way out of this place,” August said, jerking his chin a bit toward Cammie.
“Oh,” Traveler said, looking first at Cammie, then at me. “Ah, yeah. There is, actually. And it just so happens to have this brick wall that separates it from the buildings on that side,” she said, waving toward where the deli was located.
“Go,” August said, shrugging.
“Go where?” I asked. The look he shot me said he knew where I wanted to take her. “It’s too risky,” I added, looking out the window.
“You know what’s so weird?” Traveler interrupted, coming over to re-wipe the table that August had haphazardly cleaned up. “I have this habit of wearing hoodies to work and then just… leaving them in the back room. There’s got to be four or five of them there right now.”
So Cammie could slip one on and not be so recognizable in her hideous pink shirt.
My gaze slid to Cammie who was watching me with uncertain eyes.
“It’s up to you. You want to be a rebel again?”
“Again?”
“Pretty rebellious to come all the way up to Navesink Bank,” I reminded her. “At least this time you won’t be worried that I might shoot you right there in the calla lily patch,” I said, making a snort escape her.
“Oh, so have you guys ever noticed how there is a little hallway from the bathroom that has a door marked storage closet?” Traveler said, tone breezy. “Funny story. I don’t have a storage closet. It totally leads into the back room, but I don’t want creeps using the bathroom to sneak back there and surprise me.”
And there it was.
Our escape route.
“We’ll keep an eye on shit,” Nino assured us. “But you’re burning her break just sitting here.”
With that, Cammie made her decision, getting up and heading toward the bathroom.
I waited a solid minute or two before following.
When I got in the back room, Cammie was already pulling one of Travelers oversize black hoodies over her head.
Satan take the Wheel.
“It seemed appropriate,” Cammie said, offering me a smile as she shoved her arms in the sleeves.
“You’re going to need this too,” I said, walking up to her, getting closer than I had probably ever been, close enough to smell the lavender vanilla scent of her soap or lotion still clinging to her skin, and reaching to pull the hood up over her head.