Wicked Intentions (Ashby Crime Family #1) Read Online KB Winters

Categories Genre: Erotic, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Ashby Crime Family Series by KB Winters
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
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“Okay then. I like you enough to want to get to know you better.”

“Even though you’re leaving Glitz soon?”

“I don’t know what I’m doing or where I’m going. I kind of let this real world thing sneak up on me since I’ve been living with my aunt and uncle. Like a college kid.”

That sounded pathetic, and I wanted Virgil to see me as a woman. A beautiful and capable woman. A sexy woman.

“So you want to go on a date with me?” he teased.

His voice was like velvet fire, sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me.

“You might decide that one date is one too many. Or it may not be enough.”

There was a moment of silence and then another booming laugh that made me wish I was wherever he was, just so I could see the way his laugh lit up his face.

“Maisie, damn. I want to take you out. Say yes.”

“Yes.”

I could feel the smile spreading across my face and I knew that regardless of what happened with Virgil, this was going to be an amazing summer.

There was a pause on the other end of the phone before Virgil spoke again. “I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow night.”

I grinned. “I’ll be waiting.”

CHAPTER NINE

Virgil

It was only a matter of fucking time. I knew it, had known it since that night at the tracks because I couldn’t get the images out of my mind. The terrified women who probably didn’t speak a word of English and even worse, the dirty and traumatized little kids. They were the ones who broke my heart.

Drove me to day-drinking.

Hell, drove me to day-drinking until I passed out and had fucking nightmares. And it wasn’t just any random, run of the fucking mill nightmare. No, it wasn’t even a fucking nightmare.

It was a fucking memory.

I was ten years old and sitting at the kitchen table with my head bent over a coloring book. A blue crayon was in my hand and my tongue stuck out in concentration, oblivious to the world around me. I didn't hear my father come in.

He grabbed me by the back of the neck and yanked me out of the chair. I yelped in surprise and pain as he threw me across the room. I hit the wall hard, knocking the wind out of me.

"You little bastard," he snarled. “Where’s yer ma, boy?” I looked up at him and blinked. “You heard me boy, where is she?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. All I wanted was for him to leave me alone. “I asked you a question, boy. Answer me!” he roared; his face red with anger.

He grabbed my arm and yanked me up from the floor. I tried to pull away but his grip was like iron. “Answer me, dammit!” he shouted, shaking me roughly.

Suddenly, his hand came down hard across my face and my lip split open. I could taste the blood in my mouth and I wanted to cry, but I refused to give him the satisfaction.

Ma was around somewhere. She was always around, rarely leaving the house and never without Da’s permission.

“Upstairs.”

“Sadie! Get down here woman!”

“I’m busy, Colm. I’ll be down in a moment!”

“I said now!”

I cowered, trying to make myself as small as possible.

A door slammed and footsteps pounded down the stairs. Ma appeared in the doorway, her cheeks red and eyes swollen.

“What is it now, Colm? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“I asked you a question, woman! And I expect an answer!”

Ma cowered under Da's wrath, just like I did.

"What have I done to deserve this?" she pleaded. "I'm your wife, Colm. Your partner. Don't you love me anymore?"

"Love?" Da spat the word like it was a curse. "What do I know about love? You're my wife and you'll do as I say!"

He backhanded her across the face, sending her flying into the wall.

I flinched, expecting the blow to be directed at me.

It never came.

As always, Ma got up and tried to pretend like nothing had happened.

But I knew better.

I knew the truth.

This was my life now. A never-ending cycle of pain and suffering.

"What do you want for dinner?" The exasperation in Ma’s voice was like its own living, breathing being. Still, she never said a cross word to our father and especially not when he was drinking.

He was always drinking.

“What the fuck did you say to me?” His feet were on the move again, and I knew what would come next. I braced for it. With my legs bent so I could bury my face in my legs and cover my ears, I slowly rocked back and forth, hoping the world would go away.

But that wasn’t the Ashby household. We were always loud. Boisterous. Chaotic. And Da? He was always violent.

The first sound was a smack and then a cry fell from Ma’s lips. Another sound, a sickening crack that I would later learn was the sound of her jaw breaking, filled the air. And then the awful sound of her body crumpling to the ground was all I heard before I took off running out the back door.


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