Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 924(@200wpm)___ 739(@250wpm)___ 616(@300wpm)
What is he doing here?
I get up and walk off.
“Wait, where are you going?” the girls ask.
“Out.”
“But your chips—”
“Buy yourself something nice.” I leave them with a literal gold mine, but it’s mere pocket change to me.
I march out of the VIP area and catch up with him. I grab his shoulder and make him turn around. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He smirks. “You know why I’m here.”
My nostrils flare. “He invited you, didn’t he?”
His eyes drift off to the room in the back that’s well guarded, the one no one but highly privileged staff and trusted people are allowed to enter.
Yet … he’s invited?
“It’s just a conversation,” he replies.
My fist balls. “Give him my warm fucking regards.” I chuck a remaining chip at his face.
“Ares … really?” Kai scoffs, picking it up from the floor.
“Have fucking fun with him,” I growl back. “By all means. Stoke those flames some more.”
“I can’t help that he wants to talk with me. You know that,” he replies.
“You could tell him to eat a bag of dicks,” I growl back.
“And then what?” He raises his brow. “You think that’s gonna go well with him?”
I snort. “Like you have any clue what it looks like when he pops off.”
“I’m just saying, I’m trying to keep the peace here,” he says, shrugging.
“Yeah … you’re running to him like a toothless dog with its tail between its legs,” I grit.
“Says the eternal coward,” he retorts.
That’s it.
That motherfucker is dead.
I grasp his collar, lifting a fist, ready to strike.
“Go on. Do it.”
I glare him down, wishing I could cut him as deeply as my father cut me.
“Do it. Hit me,” Kai eggs me on.
But if I did, I’d give him another reason to become a martyr.
I swallow my rage and put him back down.
“Should’ve just punched me,” he says.
“Yeah. But then I’d be just like you,” I spit. “And I’m not that kind of man.”
I shove him away and out of my reach before I do something foolish.
“That’s a low blow.”
He’s right, but I don’t care.
He pats down his shirt. “Do you always have to be such a raging animal?”
“You know why,” I quip back at him.
His mellow face slowly changes into something more sinister, darker, and I don’t like it one bit. Not because it looks just like how I see myself in the mirror, but because it’s turning softer and softer. Unlike him.
Like he’s actually starting to pity me.
And I fucking hate how it looks.
“I’m so—”
“Don’t.” I raise a finger. “Don’t you fucking dare. Fuck you, I’m out of here,” I growl, fishing a cig from my pocket to light up in the middle of the fucking casino. Fuck the rules. “Give him this.”
And I stick up my middle finger as I turn around and march off.
When I get outside, my phone rings, and I pick it up so fast I nearly crush the screen when I press the button. “What?”
“Ares?”
Caleb’s voice takes off the edge a little, and I take a drag of my cig and blow out the smoke.
“What’s up?”
He sounds at the end of his rope. “Fuck. I need your help.”
I toss my cig aside and walk straight to my car. “On the way. Tell me where.”
Caleb
Thirty minutes ago
I sit back in my chair and shove my fork into the piece of meat lying on my plate without ever taking my eyes off her.
Crystal fucking Murphy in her cute little button-down onesie with wildflowers on it. She looks like she walked straight out of a picture book. Like a magical creature that doesn’t exist.
She’s casually drinking a Coca-Cola while ignoring my stares, pretending she doesn’t care when she’s clearly affected by my mere presence.
I can’t blame her. I feel the same way.
Especially after getting my hands all over her ass the last time I saw her.
But something about this whole get-together in this suburban home puts us both on edge.
“There you go,” her mom says as she puts a salad on the table. “Jonathan will have more steaks ready in a few minutes.”
So they’re on a first-name basis already. Great.
I cut into my steak like I’m butchering someone, and I think Crystal knows just as well as I do who I’m imagining here.
“No need to destroy your steak like that, dear,” her mother says, giggling when she sees me go to town.
I just shove the biggest piece into my mouth and watch her be abhorred by my chewing habits.
“Do you have to act like a pig?” Crystal asks, picking up a magazine and hiding her eyes behind it.
I smirk. “You should know best of all.” And I take another big bite. Nothing beats Dad’s steaks … except maybe when I have to fucking share them with the most vexing girl on the planet.
“You’re disgusting,” she says, rolling her eyes before she lifts the magazine back up so she doesn’t have to look at me.