Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Not the first time,” she said, swinging her eyes to meet mine.
I didn’t respond.
She nodded and straightened her shoulders even more so than they had been. “Thank you, Drew. I’ll take her on up to get dressed, and we will see you in the dining room.”
Once we were alone, her eyes locked on me. “You’re gonna be okay. You’ll heal, and this will be the last time you have to go through this. Keep your chin up. Life will get better.”
I wish she could control fate with her commands as easily as she seemed to control everyone else.
• seven •
“You not gonna spoon me out some too?”
King
“You get caught in that banana pudding, and not a one of us will be safe,” Storm Kingston said as he opened the fridge to get a beer.
“It’s just a bite,” I replied.
“Get me a beer,” Wells Jones told him as he pulled out a stool from the bar and sat down. “I’m starving. How much longer we got to wait?”
“Why are we not eating yet?” Thatcher Shephard asked as he strode into the kitchen, still wearing his cowboy hat, which would piss Maeme off more than me tasting the pudding.
“Doc D is doing an X-ray on her ribs,” I told him, then turned to Storm. “Toss me a beer, too, while you’re at it.”
“Do I look like a motherfucking bartender?” he shot back, annoyed, but reached into the fridge and took out another beer anyway.
I smirked, reaching up to grab it. “Thanks.”
“Fuck off,” he replied.
“Anyone talk to Wilder? He was supposed to be breaking into the bastard’s bank accounts and draining them,” I asked.
“You worry about your job. Wilder has it under control,” Thatcher replied.
“My job is done,” I pointed out. “Successfully so at that.”
Storm rolled his eyes and pulled out a stool beside Wells. “You had the easiest job. Flash your pretty-boy smile and do the charming shit.”
I chuckled. “You’d be surprised. She wasn’t easily moved by my smile or charm.”
“Bullshit. She’s getting a motherfucking X-ray in the basement. I’d disagree,” he shot back at me.
I shrugged and washed off my spoon before Maeme saw it. “I swear. She was tougher to convince than I’d anticipated. I’d convinced a Christian into a threesome easier.”
Storm let out a cackle of laughter. “When do you have threesomes? Doesn’t that master kink shit you like only work with one bitch at a time?”
“Is she as hot as the pics we saw of her?” Wells asked, leaning on the counter and raising his eyebrows, ignoring Storm’s obnoxious questioning.
I shrugged, unsure why hearing Wells call her hot bothered me. We’d all made comments about her looks when we got all the information about Churchill Millroe. But that had been before I met her. Now, it seemed wrong. She was an abused woman. Yes, she was smoking hot, but she had been hurt in more ways than just physical.
“Yeah. Could have done way better than that piece of shit she’s married to. One side of her face is pretty messed up, but it’ll heal,” I replied.
“Body? Tits—small or big?” Wells asked.
“Doesn’t matter,” Thatcher drawled, then took a drink of his beer.
“He’s right,” I added. “You go there, and it won’t just be Maeme you have to deal with. Not part of the job.”
“Blaise will be here tomorrow,” Thatcher said. “He might have her moved to Ocala.”
It wasn’t the boss I had been referring to, but I let that go. Wells was too damn close to a motherfucking narcissist himself. I wasn’t about to let another man hurt her. She was vulnerable and nowhere near tough enough to handle Wells. That was all it was. I wanted her safe from other assholes.
“Wilder coming with him?” Wells asked.
Thatcher smirked and cut his eyes toward Wells. “He’s a newlywed. Doubt he’s gonna leave that pussy since he’s been wanting it for more than a decade.”
“Thatch, don’t start shit,” I begged.
We had real things to deal with. Getting Wells all worked up over the past was pointless. Wilder Jones was Wells’s cousin, and Wilder had just married Wells’s first love, Oakley Watson. Not only that, but Wilder had also taken her away from Wells over ten years ago. Wells claimed he was over it, but he and Wilder had never been close again after it happened. Thatcher knew that, and he thrived on conflict.
“What? Wells is over it. Sebastian isn’t here to fuck with,” Thatcher replied, grinning smugly.
Oakley had also dated Sebastian once upon a time. He’d proposed, and she’d broken things off.
Wells shook his head. “That shit doesn’t get to me anymore. Wilder and Oak belong together. She was never good for me.”
“No, you weren’t good for her,” Thatcher replied. “Cheating bastard.”
Storm chuckled, and Wells shot him an annoyed glare.
“I was a fucking kid,” he grumbled.
That much was true. They had been in high school back then. Sebastian, on the other hand, had dated her years later. Yet he seemed to handle the fact Oakley and Wilder were married better than Wells.