Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
The only thing that’s changed is the lack of alcohol.
Why is everything—emotions, actions, thoughts—all related to the fucking bottle?
Because drink masked everything.
I look up at Kate’s house. She’s why. For her, I don’t want to be a bastard. “Fuck,” I breathe, resting my head on the window, trying to muster the courage to call my sister back.
Ten minutes later, I still haven’t. I drag my hands down my face and try to realign myself, ready for Ava because, obviously, she sees when something is on my mind, when I’m unsettled, when I’m sad, and she presses me.
Knock, knock, knock.
My head nearly hits the roof of my car when I jump. Disorientated, I look out of the window, seeing a man’s face pushed up close to the glass. I back up a bit. Then his uniform registers. “For fuck’s sake.” I roll my eyes, looking at the rearview mirror. It’s a quiet residential street, there’s no traffic, and I’m not blocking the road. I let the passenger window down. “I’m waiting for someone,” I say, immediately clicking the button to put the window back up, taking away his opportunity to challenge me. I’m in no mood. I hope he senses that.
Knock, knock, knock.
I grind my teeth and slowly turn warning eyes onto him. He doesn’t heed the caution, motioning up and down the road to the non-existent traffic. “Fuck off,” I grunt, looking past him when Ava comes flying out of the door. The fact that she looks crazy gorgeous is superseded by the speed at which she’s running, looking into her bag as she stuffs things into it. For Christ’s sake, she’ll trip.
I give the warden my middle finger when he knocks again, glancing at my phone when it starts ringing. My sister’s name on the screen makes my mood plummet further. I don’t know what to say to you, Amalie. I let the window down again, and the drone of the warden’s voice becomes clearer. “I’m just doing my job. Abuse will not be tolerated.”
I look past him, seeing Ava hovering beyond, constantly moving from side to side, trying to find a way around him. “Move so the lady can get in the car,” I order. He ignores me. Stupid fuck.
“Excuse me,” I hear Ava say sweetly, and yet the eejit blabbers on at me to the point I could quite easily reach across my car, grab him by the scruff of the neck, and yank him in before smashing his face against the steering wheel. But I can’t do that.
“For fuck’s sake.” I get out and stomp around the front of my Aston, pleased to see him finally backing off when I meet him on the pavement. That’s better. I open the door and help a quiet Ava into the seat. “Have a good fucking day,” I mutter as I pass him, falling back behind the wheel and roaring away.
“They’re just doing a job, you know,” Ava says quietly, and I laugh on the inside. So was I. And this morning my job is to get her to work on time.
“Power-hungry failures who didn’t make cops,” I reply, peeking across at her, finally getting my moment to absorb her. Her face is fresh and free from makeup, although that looks like it’s going to change. She’s pulled the sun visor down to get to the mirror. She doesn’t need makeup. She doesn’t need clothes. She doesn’t need work. “You look lovely.”
“Watch the road,” she says over a laugh, dabbing at her face. “Oh, Sam said he can’t make your run.”
“Lazy bastard,” I mutter, returning my attention to the road. I pull around a slowing cab, frowning. “He’s still there, then?”
“He’s got Kate tied to the bed,” she says, and I recoil, flicking my eyes across the car. She sounds completely unfazed by that as she applies some eye makeup. I slow down a little while she’s holding a stick so close to her eyes.
“Probably,” I muse, grimacing, wondering where that word came from. I look out the corner of my eye, seeing Ava frozen, her mouth agape. I quickly look away.
“You don’t sound shocked.”
“That’s because I’m not.” What the fuck is wrong with my mouth right now? Why am I feeding her curiosity?
Her teeth sink into her lip, her mind clearly racing. Lord, if she’s struggling to get her head around a bit of rope play, her mind might explode if I share more. “I don’t want to know,” she eventually says, returning to the mirror to finish her makeup.
“No, you don’t.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” I reach for her knee and take hold, siphoning off some willpower and strength to get me through my morning. “So what have you planned for the day?”
“Work,” she answers dryly, flipping the mirror back up. I give her knee a squeeze in warning, and she laughs over a yelp, grabbing my hand.