Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Darryl Horton’s lawyer is trying to get him out on a technicality,” he said. “One that might actually work.”
My brows rose. “What do you mean?”
“Darryl wasn’t listed on the original arrest warrant,” he started, explaining everything.
“What are you fucking talking about?” I said when he was finished. “Madman was listed.”
“Madman, not Darryl Horton.” He rubbed the spot between his eyes. “That’s not his legal name. The legal names of Wizard, Hybrid, Time Lord, and a few others were all listed. But not Darryl’s.”
“Fuck,” I hissed. “Now what?”
“Now we hope we can fill in that loophole before he’s let out,” Tyrone answered.
“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” I grumbled.
“Once I get any information on this, I’ll give you a call. I know he’s obsessed with Athena,” he said.
I sighed. “At least it’ll give her a reason to have to stay with me.”
“You have to force her?” Callena laughed.
It sounded wrong.
I frowned at her.
“She’s gun shy,” I admitted. “You scared her away with showing up at my house this morning.”
“What?” Tyrone asked. “Why did you go there?”
I chose not to get into the middle of whatever argument was brewing between the two.
Instead, I grabbed my stuff, said my goodbyes, and headed to the communications building where Athena worked. A building I’d avoided at all costs until now.
Until I’d decided that I was done denying myself what I wanted most—Athena Murphy.
I headed into the building, my brows rising when I saw the rows of desks, and a man waving his hands in the air as he talked about climate change, the full moon, and multiple other things that I was lost about.
Maybe if I’d been in on the beginning of this conversation…
“Don’t mind Petey,” a woman said from the desk beside me. “He’s a little rough because he had a full night with lots of calls.”
I looked over at the older black woman and said, “Got it. Hey, do you mind helping me?”
She smiled at me, her red lipstick making her white teeth pop, and said, “Let me guess, Athena?”
I blinked. “How did you know?”
“She came in here in a bad mood, and she’s never in a bad mood. And you have apology pastries,” she answered.
I looked down at the box.
“Oh, and she loves chocolate milk,” she continued.
I chuckled. “Then yes, they’re apology pastries, and this is her chocolate milk.”
She pointed a red-tipped nail at me and said, “Get her back into a good mood. She’s been gone a long time, which means she’ll have a long ass day. Long ass days here go better when you’re in a good mood.”
I nodded.
“She’s in the back corner. With all the pink.” She pointed.
“Thank you,” I winked and moved toward the pink.
It was very pink, too.
The cubicle she was in was bright pink—wallpaper maybe—and she had pink desk accessories, a pink blanket over her chair, and even a pink rug.
She wasn’t wearing pink, though.
She was wearing a black t-shirt, black yoga pants, and a black headband in her hair holding her gorgeous locks back.
She was scowling at her computer screen, and she looked so damn cute I wanted to lick the damn dimple in her cheek.
Fuck, I loved that dimple.
It only came out when she was frowning, and usually it was aimed at me.
I had no doubt her scowl was my fault, too.
“Athena,” I said softly.
She snapped her head in my direction, and for a second she looked happy to see me. Then that happiness fled as she remembered she was mad at me.
“What are you doing here?” she growled. “I’m at work.”
My lips kicked up at one corner, but I didn’t dare smile.
“Garrett always comes to visit you,” I pointed out.
Her phone rang, and she shot me an annoyed glance and picked it up.
“911, what’s your emergency?” Athena answered professionally, not a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“Ma’am,” Athena said, “this is 911. Not 811. You have to call 811 if you want to dig.”
Athena hung up after a few more seconds, and then her glare returned to me.
“That happen often?” I asked.
“More than you would think,” she admitted. “What are you doing here, Gable?”
“I finally allowed myself to come over here because I’m done telling myself I’m no good for you,” I admitted. “And sure, maybe I am a dirty old man creeping on a barely twenty-one-year-old, but if you can handle the grossed out stares, so can I.”
She widened her eyes at me. “What do you mean, grossed out? Nobody would look at us being together as gross. You look like you’re ageless.”
Sure, I could probably look younger if I got rid of the beard, but I’d found that I liked it.
Though, I was glad to finally have it back to a more manageable length.
“I’m thirteen years older than you,” I pointed out. “Not to mention, you’re this beloved friend to almost all of my family. You have this deep connection with Maven, who is cherished. Garrett loves you. My parents love you. The department loves you. And then there’s me, the man who goes and immerses himself in trouble, and allows some fuckin’ douchebag to become obsessed with you.”