Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“You said Berat wants you out, right?”
“Right.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be weird if a day or two from now, you got some boxes, and just so happen to box up that hideous fucking lion. And the clock. But make sure you are gathering up a bunch of other shit too. Don’t make it obvious.”
“That makes me feel a little better,” she agreed. “And I can box up all of Eren’s things while I’m at it. Okay,” she said, taking a deep breath, and giving me a nod. “So where do we start looking for the cash?”
Criminals always thought they were clever about their cash. They didn’t do cliche shit like hiding it in the freezer or in the toilet tank, so they thought their shit would never be found.
Granted, the apartment didn’t have nearly the amount I expected, likely because Berat and Deniz had cleared out the rest of it, but it hadn’t been hard to find what was left.
A couple grand in a hidden drawer in his nightstand, a couple more in the false bottom to his luggage set in the closet, hidden right on the ceiling just inside the exhaust vent in the bathroom.
If you thought like a criminal, it was relatively easy to find a cool twenty-five grand for Ezzy to add to her stash.
“Don’t put this in the bank,” I warned her as she stood there staring at the cash on the counter, eyes wide.
Because despite the outward appearances, living in a nice apartment, having a rich husband, Ezmeray had been on a strict budget for years, never even touching any cash that she hadn’t covertly taken out with her credit card at the grocery store.
“What should I do with it, then?”
“Depends on how safe you want it,” I told her. “Top of the line safe would be in a safe deposit box. They don’t want cash in them because they can’t insure it, but it is safe. Downside, you can only access your money during business hours and someone would see you going in and out of the bank.”
“And since I’m being watched…”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Okay, what else?”
“You can hide little bits of it around here where you can grab it in a hurry. You can keep it in your gym locker downstairs, but there is no way to keep that safe and it traps you in the gym if someone is after you.”
“Can you hold it for me?” she asked after hemming her options.
“Babe, you barely know me.”
“I trust you,” she said, shrugging.
A part of me wanted to tell her that trusting me was a mistake. Because I wanted her to be careful. I wanted her to think of everyone as a threat.
But the fact of the matter was, she could trust me. And I was more than capable of keeping her cash safe. And bringing bits of it to her if she needed it.
Besides, I had no need for her cash. I had plenty of my own.
“I can hide it for you. But if you need any of it, just let me know,” I said, shrugging. “Do you want to keep any of this?”
“I have a couple grand left in my purse,” she said. “And my card will be coming. I won’t need more than that. I shouldn’t be spending much right now anyway.”
“That’s true. Try to keep everything as normal as possible. Groceries. Essentials. And the moving boxes. You gotta live like you know the money is going to get cut off soon.”
“I can do that. Especially knowing there is an end in sight,” she added. “Do you think it is okay that I have, like, a standing dinner date with Judy across the hall?”
“I think that makes sense. But have her here sometimes too, not always going to her apartment.”
“I can do that.”
“Hey,” I said, reaching over, snagging her chin, and forcing her gaze up. “It’s not for long,” I reminded her.
“I know.”
“And I am around anytime you need me.”
“I know that too,” she said, a soft smile toying with her lips. “What about the meeting with your boss?”
“You don’t need to stress about that. It will be fine. They will just want to hear shit from you, not secondhand from me. He’s a good man,” I added.
“Seems to be a common trait with your Family.”
“Babe, I’m not a good man,” I told her, shaking my head. “I don’t want you getting it twisted. I’m fucked up. And I do fucked up shit. And, what’s more, I like doing it.”
“We all have our hobbies,” she said, shooting me a wobbly smile as a choked chuckle escaped me. “Just because you do some, objectively, bad things doesn’t make you a bad man,” she insisted. “And it doesn’t mean you are bad to or for me,” she added.
“No,” I agreed, reaching out to frame her face as I moved a step closer. “One thing I can guarantee is I’d never put my hands on you.”