Their Kitten – A Dark MFM Romance Read Online Cassandra Hallman

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
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I thankfully didn’t have to worry about her trying to run behind me with all the medicine she’s on. I don’t stop moving until I’m sitting in the driver’s seat of my car. After sitting there for a few seconds, I punch my steering wheel a few times to release the pent up anger before a deep yell fills the space around me.

Why the fuck didn’t I put two and two together sooner? How didn’t I recognize her? She may have had a lot of makeup on earlier, but when we came to her apartment, she’d washed it all off. That should’ve been a dead giveaway then. I guess Tristan and I were so focused on getting information that we didn’t look at the obvious signs right in front of us.

Now I have to figure out how to keep this from Tristan until I think he’s ready to know the truth about who our Kitten is.

CLEO

Ipace my living room floor, my frustration mounting with each step. It’s been a week now, and I still haven’t received the money I earned at Purgatory. I’ve been checking my account multiple times a day ever since that horrible day, and despite all the pain I’ve just overcome, I still don’t have anything to show for it.

Bills are still piling up, multiple overdue notices scattered across my coffee table. I grab my phone and try to reach Lucian again, only to be told that he’s in a meeting and is unavailable to talk. What the hell am I going to do now? I have no money, Tristan and Talon are nowhere to be found, and I’m in no better position now than I was before I auctioned off my virginity.

Regret fills my gut as I flop down on my couch. Helplessness swirls in my chest as I stare at the yellow slips of paper that constantly taunt me about my fucked up financial situation. Now that my injuries are mostly just a painful memory, I’m going to have to jump back into work and pull a shit ton of overtime just to cover the late fees for most of the things that are due.

And then I need to get in touch with Lucian to figure out where the hell my money is.

I try to pass time by cleaning my apartment a little, coming across the box that is now back on the top of my bookshelf. I swallow hard as I gaze at it for a moment, remembering the look on Talon’s face when we realized who I really was. I haven’t seen or heard from him or Tristan since that night, and I don’t know why I feel strange about that. I have no idea if he’s told Tristan or what he may think about me now that he knows that they fucked their ex-foster sister. I’m sure it’s a lot for him to wrap his mind around; it was hard for me to accept it. He almost appeared…hurt when he learned the news, but I can’t pinpoint if it’s because I hid it from him or if he feels bad about everything they’d done.

“Must not feel too bad if neither of them have come back to apologize,” I bitterly remind myself as I stuff a few pieces of old mail into the trash bag in my hand. Once I’ve gathered all the trash, I tie the bag up and prepare to take it down to the dumpster. I ignore all the shady individuals lingering around in the hallway, catcalling me as I walk past before shouting rude things to me when I don’t respond to them. God, I hate this place. Being able to move into a safer, more habitable home is the main reason why I took the second deal.

Now I don’t know if or when I’ll be able to make that happen.

I quickly make my way down the steps and toss the bag into the dumpster. I don’t run into the landlord, thankfully. I’m still late on rent. The last thing I want is for him to start bitching about how I haven’t paid and then harass me about how he doesn’t run a free shelter.

“Hey! You! Number ten!” an annoyingly familiar voice calls after me once I step back onto my floor. I glance over my shoulder to see my landlord lumbering toward me with a frown on his face. Shit. Just the person I wanted to avoid.

I turn to quickly go to my apartment, but the landlord proves to be a little faster than I originally thought. He grabs my elbows and pulls me further away from my door and glares at me.

“I still haven’t gotten rent from you,” he snaps. I wrinkle my nose at the smell of whiskey coming off his breath and through his pores. His sweat slicked skin and wild eyes tell me everything that I need to know, which means that I need to find a way to get away from him before things become dangerous for me.


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