Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
So I woke up confused and groggy, then tripped right into outright panic when I realized I was almost an hour behind on my morning routine.
I liked to start my mornings early so I could ease into my day with a decent amount of self-care, some cleaning, and a few work-adjacent tasks that would help me feel ahead of the day before it truly even began.
With that time stripped away from me, all I managed was a quick shower and a coffee and pastry on the run to get to my day job as just another lackey at a desk.
I worked through my lunch to try to get a few loose ends tied up for my next event.
Which meant that by the time I left work, I was cranky and hungry. But then I got a call that caused a mini crisis. Because my caterer for an event backed out last minute.
I rushed to my office, panic tight around my chest because, damnit, caterers were sometimes booked out a year in advance. And I needed to find one with three weeks’ notice.
I spent hours researching, reading reviews, making calls, and leaving messages, all the while saying little prayers that someone would get back to me, that someone could squeeze me in.
Finally, pulled from my work haze by the churning ache of my empty stomach, I grabbed my phone and made my way out of the office to grab something quick at one of the many restaurants in the heart of Navesink Bank.
I stepped out of the building, and glanced around then felt that weird flinch of fear. Like I saw someone out of the corner of my eye.
Only, when I looked more closely, there was nothing and no one there.
A trick of the light, maybe.
Or my hunger making me jumpy.
Still, as I walked to the local sushi place, grabbing a few rolls to go, there was a weird cold prickle at the back of my neck, a strange dread in my stomach.
I tried to shake it off, to tell myself it was just paranoia, that this part of town was relatively safe, and that I could take care of myself if some creepy dude was behind me or something.
I didn’t dare look back until I reached the office door, where I paused to plug in my code since it was after hours.
As I suspected, though, there was no one there—just me and my low blood sugar conjuring up some bad guy.
I ate at my desk and made another few calls just in case the first few rounds didn’t produce a call back.
Finally, deciding I’d done everything I could, I cleaned up my office and decided to quickly run a few errands before heading home.
There was liquor to buy, since I wasn’t like Layna, Vi, and Hope. I didn’t like the hard liquors the guys kept at the clubhouse. For better or worse (worse, usually, since the sugar almost always gave me a headache and hangover), I preferred those sweet premixed drinks instead.
I also needed to grab more of my shampoo and conditioner since Layna and her long mane of hair had used up what was left in my bottles in the shower.
I also had a pick-up order from the local printer.
So I parked my car in a central location and ran back and forth to it after each errand.
The print shop, though, was far off at the edge of town, almost close to Third Street gang territory, where there were several rundown and empty buildings and clear scouts and dealers standing around.
I reminded myself that the club made it very clear to all the local crews that the princesses were off-limits.
But it wasn’t necessarily the dealers I was worried about; it was their clientele.
It didn’t help that a flickering streetlight let out a loud hum before blanketing me in near total darkness just as I rounded the bend to a dead-end street where the print shop was located.
My heart leapt.
My pulse fluttered.
And my belly tightened.
I forced myself to keep walking, not to start swiveling my head around, looking unsure and scared.
Walk with confidence had been something hammered into my cousins and me during our training from our badass aunts. Predators are surprisingly good at picking out prey. Make it clear you aren’t that.
I squared my shoulders, lengthened my stride, and forced a confidence I didn’t feel.
Right up until I got to the damn print shop and found it closed down.
Just as a group of young guys emerged from a dive bar across the street.
Great.
Fantastic.
Just what this night needed.
“Hey, baby!” one of them called as I turned on my heel and started to walk back from where I’d come.
“Aw, don’t run away. We just want to talk to you!”
Yeah, sure.
Why didn’t I check the time before I started down this way?
“Damn, look at that ass,” one of the guys called.