Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I turn, placing my hands on his chest. “If I do this…” I shudder, raising my eyes to his. “Promise me you’ll make it quick.”
A snake slithers up my spine and wraps around my neck, squeezing.
Callan’s hands encase my cheeks. “I promise.” He leans down, placing a kiss on my head.
When he moves away, I feel it pull on the threads of my soul. I just agreed to help kill Tyler.
Me: I need to see you.
“You haven’t touched your drink.” Kitty nudges the bottle along the bar until it touches the side of my hand. Staring at the text I sent Tyler, I nibble at my lip, my leg bouncing.
“I’m not really in the mood.”
“That’s the beauty of alcohol—it gets you in the mood.”
Looking up from my phone, I notice it’s just us sitting at the bar, there’s no heavy music or club sluts sauntering around the place. The atmosphere is unsettled, I hate it. Callan went into his office two hours ago with Grease and still hasn’t come out. Brothers sit around tables, talking in hushed grunts. A buzz sizzles in the air, waiting to catch fire. No one is ready to light the match.
“Who are you waiting to get a text from?” Kitty asks when I recheck my phone, refreshing the screen.
“No one.” I turn my phone over and take the bottle, the bitter liquid sloshing into my empty stomach as I drink.
“Cutter sent Tim on a pizza run.”
My stomach growls. “I knew I liked Tim for a reason.” I manage a smile, but it feels forced. It’s such an odd sensation, being part of a murder and then sitting here waiting for pizza to arrive.
“Cutter doesn’t,” Kitty muses, peeling the label off her bottle.
“Why is that?” I raise a brow, giving her a pointed look.
“I’m not the one who’s married.” She cuts her gaze across the room.
“He won’t leave her, Kit,” I say out loud, my eyes following hers to the man who holds her heart in his hand. Life is too damn short to beat around the bush. Her knuckles turn snow white against the beer bottle. I hate hurting her, but Cutter uses her like a club slut. He’s not just disrespecting her and holding her heart hostage; he’s disrespecting Callan and Jericho in the same breath. When this comes out, it’s going to cause a riot. They should both know better.
After a silent pause that seems to go on forever, she scrunches her nose and flicks her green hair over her shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter.” She slips from her stool and plants her lips on my cheek. “Single suits me better anyway.”
“Where are you going?” I call after her retreating form.
“It’s dinnertime for Keg.”
“You’re always using that cat as an excuse to avoid conversation,” I scoff. Pushing the beer bottle away, I flag over the prospect acting as bartender tonight. “Can I have a water, please?”
He leans over the bar, putting his hand behind his ear despite it not being crowded or noisy in here tonight. “What was that?”
“A water,” I repeat. His brow tugs in confusion, but he nods. Rolling my eyes, I scan the room, startling when Monster comes to sit beside me. He places a pizza box on the bar top and lifts the lid, gesturing with his chin for me to take a slice.
The heat drains from my body. “Thanks.” Delicious aromas waft up with the steam billowing from the melted cheese, attacking my senses. I pull a piece out and rest it on the napkin meant for my beer. “I didn’t see Tim come in with them,” I say, shifting on my stool.
“He dumped and ran off with Kitty.” My mouth parts, and I turn to look at the exit.
Unbelievable.
“I wanted to make sure things were good with us.” His gaze burns into the side of my face. I shake my head, attempting to gather my thoughts with my nerves jumping in my pulse.
“There’s no mercy for crimes against the Kings, right?” I repeat the words Callan said to Larkin’s son before killing him. God, it feels like another lifetime.
“Without consequence, there’s just chaos,” Monster states. “But you knew him, so I’m sorry that had to happen—that you had to see it.” I look into his eyes, finding only sincerity.
“I’ve seen my fair share of red lately.” I sigh. “It sucks that this is how it ends. I wonder what my dad would make of it all—of me being here, being a King.”
“You belong here. And who knows. If he were around, maybe he would too.” He stands, taking the pizza box into his hand. “We good?” he asks, his heavy beard moving with his actions.
“We’re good.” I bite into my slice and nod my head.
The prospect places my glass of water on the bar and scratches his head. “You did mean just tap water, right? Not tonic?”