Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
“Well, shit. Now what?” Penny asks once we’re outside, looking at me like I’ll have an answer.
I don’t have a damn clue. I don’t know how to find stolen jewels, or track thieves, or hide from Mob guys, but that’s not what I say. I hold up Paul’s list and offer, “Hit the next one?”
“Fine. I think it’s close enough we can walk there.”
Penny marches past me, giving me a good foot of berth, and I traipse along behind her, feeling like a lost puppy. No, I feel useless . . . which rolls right into my old friend, worthless.
In my head, I’m screaming at myself . . .
Fix this!
Do something, anything!
What was that?
I’m so caught up in chastising myself, I nearly miss it, but several hundred feet ahead, the hulking shape of a guy ducks into a doorway. Maybe it wasn’t one of the goons from yesterday, but maybe it was. Maybe he went into the store, or maybe he’s waiting for Penny to walk in front of him so he can demand the ring back.
It’s a lot of maybes, and I’m likely overreacting, but I can’t take that chance. Not with Penny, and not with her safety.
“You’re going the wrong way. You know that, right?” My voice is intentionally cold, the tone I use to snip and snipe at her, riling her up and pissing her off. I hate it. Every time I do it, it kills a tiny part of me, but I do it anyway, again and again, because it’s the only way I’ve found to keep the necessary buffer between us. Anything else I could try would likely hurt her more in the long run, and I can take losing bits of my soul if it’s for her.
Penny stops almost instantly, and I can see her erecting her defenses before facing me, her posture straightening, her head lifting, and her intake of breath sharp.
Even so, when she does turn, she looks . . . defeated. Her amber eyes, usually so full of life and happiness, are hollow and sad. Her lips, always so quick with a friendly smile, are turned down into a pout that, while adorable, breaks my heart. “It’s gone.”
Her fire is extinguished. Like someone doused water on her spirit. No, like I drowned it. But there are still embers in her soul, and I can ignite them. It just takes . . .
“That’s it? You’re giving up that easily? Two stores, and you throw in the towel like this is a participation-ribbon peewee league where everyone gets fruit snacks and a high five after the game?” I huff out a dry laugh. “I thought you were made of sturdier stuff than that. Didn’t realize you were such a weak bitch that one little setback would send you crying to your room, curled up and woe-is-me’ing about how the big, bad world was mean to you.” I round my shoulders, miming like I’m sucking my thumb and pouting out my bottom lip. It’s a fair estimation for how she looks right now, minus the thumb-sucking.
It hurts to do, but it works. Every word has fanned her flames. I can damn near see them getting brighter, growing bigger behind her eyes. And all the while, my soul goes darker and uglier.
“Excuuuse me?” she snaps. “You did not just say that. Take it back.” She steps right up to me, her chin lifted defiantly and her eyes full of fury.
There she is. There’s my Penny.
I mean, not my Penny. But her Penny. Herself. That’s what I meant.
I lean down, getting so close that I smell the coffee on her breath and the vanilla body wash she uses. “No.”
She makes a sound of offense that I take secret delight in and then plants her hands on my chest, giving me a hard shove, and nearly falling in the process. How does this woman, who is all elegant grace on the ice and ass-shaking on the cheerleaders’ stage, manage to nearly fall when pushing against an immoveable mass? No idea, but she does it. Seemingly easily.
“God, you’re such an asshole. No, worse! You’re like a hemorrhoid on an asshole.”
Her tiny growl is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. And reassures me that she’s still fighting . . . for the ring, for herself, for more than she realizes.
“Yep,” I readily agree. “Doesn’t mean I’m not right about you, ya big crybaby.” This time, it’s teasing. It’s the cutting remarks we always engage in as I work us back to the safety of treating her like an annoying brat the way Dom does. It’s the only safe space for us. “Ready for the next store now?”
I half expect her to continue stomping away in the same direction she was going, which I’ll have to stop because, though I’ve been teasing Penny, I’ve also noticed that the hulking guy hasn’t reappeared down the block and could still be lurking in wait for her. Thankfully, she seems to have heard my initial question about going the wrong way and walks back past me in the opposite direction.