Total pages in book: 21
Estimated words: 19979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 67(@300wpm)
The address Mom gave me turns out to be a corner bar in the middle of a slum neighborhood. A few guys are standing outside when we pull up—three black SUVs.
“Wait here,” I tell Luca.
“Miss—” he tries to protest, but I hop out and walk straight up to the leader, a cocky looking guy with blond hair like a frat boy. He’s right in the middle of a hand-to-hand, selling marijuana to a group of teenage girls.
To my surprise, he looks me up and down like I’m just some chick at the party he’s trying to pick up.
“Well, what are you looking for, sweetheart?”
I shut him up by driving my knuckles into his nose. He sprawls backwards, and his men reach for their weapons, but I draw my gun faster than Charlize Theron in Atomic Blonde.
“Give me a reason,” I snarl through clenched teeth. Instantly, the men back off. Just like I thought.
“What the fuck?” the man on the ground cries out as blood fountains from his nose. “Girl, do you know who you’re messing with?”
“Do you?” I reply, cocking the hammer of my gun. “I’m Sable Noir.”
One of his men gasps and looks at me like I was the devil who just came up from hell.
“You know who I am?” All he can do is nod. “Good. Then why don’t you explain to your boss here what will happen if you guys aren’t gone by tonight? Can you do that for me?”
Now he’s shaking, but he still manages a second nod.
I de-cock the hammer but keep my gun in my hand as I get back in the car. Luca’s chuckling as I pull away, glancing in my rear-view as the boys help their fallen leader to his feet.
“Think that showed ‘em?” I smile.
“Oh, they’ll be gone before we get back to the house.”
When I get back, I see Ryker standing outside, arms crossed over his chest, looking absolutely furious.
The face-off with those clowns didn’t even get my blood pumping, but when I walk up to him, my whole body comes to life.
“And just where have you been?” he demands.
“What are you my father?” I reply, walking right past him and into the house.
He follows behind and waits until we’re alone in the corridor to grab me by the arm. I try to wrench away, but he holds strong, like his life depends on it.
“You don’t get to risk your life like that!” he snaps. His face is red, and his eyes are filled with rage.
“Get off me!” My nostrils twitch as his scent hits me. It’s like coming home to something familiar and expected.
“I should have been the one to deal with this problem,” he snarls. “You’re only eighteen. You have no idea how fast this world kills people you care about!”
“Um, do I have to remind you that I basically kicked your ass when we first met?” His eyes narrow, and I swallow hard. “You’re not angry because I put myself at risk. You’re angry because I didn’t need you.”
His expression shifts to something so deadly that for a moment, I’m absolutely sure he’s going to hit me.
But he doesn’t.
I watch his jaw tremble, and his eyes burrow into mine, feeling the intensity.
My heart is pounding like I’ve just run a marathon, and my cheeks are tingling all over.
Slowly, he leans in until our faces are almost touching. Is he going to kiss me?
“Next time you want to do something like that,” he says slowly, “it goes through me.”
“Fuck you,” I gnash back. “You don’t get to decide how I live my life. I don’t need your protection.”
Again, Ryker’s face shifts. But this time, his lips part, and he looks at me almost like he’s afraid.
“Fine,” he replies, releasing me. I suddenly feel like I’ve been struck too.
My legs tremble as I turn and walk away.
9
RYKER
I find myself standing behind the house in the shadows of the trees, the wind blowing against my face, my mind searching for an anchor point but not finding one.
I glance down at my hand, recalling the memory of her skin, the warmth of her flesh as I held her.
Only now, my knuckles are torn and bloody, and the wall of the foyer is filled with holes the size of my fist. The bench by the door is also split in half…
“Fine.”
That’s what I said to her. But did I mean it?
Doesn’t matter anyway at this point. She made her choice, and who am I to stop her? Besides, letting her do her thing makes sense. It’s cleaner. Even safer—at least in one way.
I go inside and wash my hands and bandage them. When I come out of the bathroom, I find my father in the foyer, a grim look on his face. Without a word, he motions for me to follow into his office.