Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
No one driving by says, Hey, let’s stop there and have a drink.
I sit down and Missy spots me. She frowns, confused as to why I’m here, and it makes the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
“What can I get you, miss?” She’s got her dark hair up in a high pony and her makeup on the lighter side with nude gloss.
She looks good. Better than last time I saw her with a bruised face.
“Whiskey. Please.”
“Coming right up.” She taps the bar and pours me a glass.
“Thank you,” I say, dropping some cash onto the bar top and picking up my drink, exiting the bar and returning to the room.
I’m doing this one differently. I instructed him to meet me here. Fuck the bar tonight. I don’t have time for small talk. I’m going to kill the bastard, run to my house, and get back to my husband. I have plans to spend all night on my knees for him. Limbs tied and mouth open. Just like the good girl I am for him.
A knock comes on the door, and I smile. How gentlemanly of him.
Getting up, I open it to see a young man standing before me. His eyes drop to my high heels and run up over my skinny jeans and tube top.
I wasn’t in the mood for a dress. They always seem to tear it off or pull it down. The tube top probably wasn’t the best choice, but it’s not like I can wear an overly large T-shirt and sweatpants.
“Hi.” I pop my hip out and give him a fake smile.
“Hey.” He rubs his jaw and surveys my left hand.
I took my ring off and left it in Kashton’s car. Stepping to the side, I gesture for him to enter.
He enters the room, and I shut the door, locking it. I don’t want someone slipping in without me knowing. If he’s got friends coming, they’re going to have to kick it in.
My cell lights up on the dresser by the TV, Fuckface flashing across the screen. I press Ignore. Interesting. He knows I’m working.
“So…” The man turns to face me. “How does all this work?”
“You pay me, and I fuck you.” I twirl my hair around my finger. I wore it down, knowing it wasn’t the best idea.
“Yeah. Yeah.” He nods, reaching into his back pocket and removing his wallet. He grabs a twenty and tosses it onto the dresser. The guy seems nervous. Definitely younger than my usual fifty-year-old and older married bastards.
I arch a brow. “What do you have in mind?”
He licks his lips. “I…uh, I’m an ass man.”
Cheap bastard.
Twenty bucks to fuck my ass? It’s usually the ones who pay the least that expect the most from you. But then again, women are out there doing it for free.
“I didn’t prep for that,” I say honestly. “Does that bother you?”
He pulls his lip back with disgust, and I want to laugh. Kashton doesn’t give a fuck.
His cell beeps, and I look at his front pocket. “Do you need to get that?”
He waves it off. “They can wait.”
Red flags are going off, but I’m here for a reason. I got the text for a job, and I have never missed one. Fuckface lights my cell up once more, and I huff. “Remove your pants,” I order.
His face reddens. “I, uh—”
I kick him in the dick as hard as I can, and he drops to his knees, doubling over. He screams like a little bitch, and I kick him in the face.
Falling onto his back, I open the top drawer to the dresser and stand over him with my gun pointed at his head. “Who the fuck are you?” I demand.
I knew this would happen. That my luck would run out. That they’d put two and two together and find out what I’m doing. My first sign should have been Missy confused to see me. They always know when I’m doing a job. She must have called Adam, and that’s why he was calling me.
“Speak, motherfucker.” I stomp my red-bottomed heel between his legs, pressing down on his balls.
“Fuucckkkk.” He arches his back and spit flies from his mouth. “I…I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he cries.
“Then what the fuck are you doing here?” I demand, adding a twisting motion to the pressure.
He fists his hands and gasps in a breath. “Delivering you…”
“Delivering me to where?”
“Cathedral.”
Fuck. I remove my heel, crouch down, and yank his cell from his pocket. I go to his texts, and my stomach drops at what I read.
I fall down onto the bench at the end of the bed. Pointing the gun at his head, I pull the trigger.
KASHTON
I stand down in the basement with my brothers and Hooke. The sorry bastard we took from Blackout—Maxwell—lies naked and curled up in a ball on the floor. A couple of days with no food or water has given him time to reflect on his life choices.