Twisted Collide – Saints of Redville Read Online Ava Harrison

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Chick Lit, Contemporary, Forbidden, Sports Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 109176 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 546(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
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This woman doesn’t know me, but by the way she looks at me, I think she thinks she will.

“Sure.”

She beams at me and then turns to Josephine, her smile now a straight line.

“Thank you for bringing him . . .”

Josephine takes a step forward and extends her hand. “I’m Josie.”

The woman looks down at her hand like it’s diseased. “Cute,” she says in a patronizing voice.

Is she for real right now?

“Josephine is my temporary assistant while Molly is out of town. She’s Coach Robert’s daughter.”

That wipes the snide smirk right off her face. It also makes Josephine look like she might throw up.

Instantly, I hate that I said it.

The reason I did was to tell this bitch to treat her with respect, but I realize now, more damage was done to Josephine than to the reporter.

“Let’s make this quick,” I say, pointing at a free table. “We have another appointment after this.”

I turn toward Josephine to see if she’ll back me up despite the fact that we don’t have anything after this, but she plays along.

“Yep. Sorry, oh, I forgot your name.”

“Natasha.”

“Yeah, sorry, Natasha, Mr. Sinclair’s schedule is jam-packed. Busy man. So you guys might want to get to it.”

“No problem.” Natasha scurries behind me as I walk to the table.

The moment we get away from Josephine, Natasha is back at it, fluttering her lids at me and licking her lips.

Not acting at all professional.

“She’s a bit young. Don’t you hate nepotism?”

“My sister works for me,” I deadpan.

Her mouth opens and shuts like a guppy.

It takes her a few minutes to right herself before she takes out her recorder.

“So, tell me about your involvement with Saints and Starling Foundation. From what I heard from Coach Robert, this charity is near and dear to your heart.”

It is, more than he knows, more than anyone knows.

I take a deep breath and tell her the watered-down version of why I help raise money to assist people with legal fees.

How I want to make sure that people who don’t have access to funds can still get the representation and advice they need.

Even without money, they don’t need to sell their soul to ensure they are looked after.

They don’t have to do what I did when I had no one to help me.

24

JOSIE

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to punch another person as badly as I did that reporter. Her condescending demeanor was so unprofessional, but having Dane come to my defense was worth the insults she threw.

He cares.

Whether he admits it or not, he does care about me in some capacity. Our night together mattered.

I matter.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Dane asks, peeking out the corner of his eye at me.

“Nothing. Just thinking about where we might be off to since we have a jam-packed day.” I air quote, repeating his earlier words.

“Anywhere far from her.”

I laugh and nod in agreement. “She was awful.”

“She was, but I guess a necessary evil, or at least that’s what Molly would say.” He grunts. “If that woman had talked to her like that, I would’ve come unglued.” He shakes his head as if imagining the scenario in his head.

“Molly sounds pretty great,” I say, wondering what she’s like.

Is she broody like him, or the sunshine to his dark clouds?

“She is,” he says, and his voice is lower and softer.

So that’s what his voice sounds like when he loves someone. I wonder if anyone loves me like that.

My heart tightens in my chest.

Despite my mom being cold at times, I know she loves me. She’s the only person I know who cares for me. I don’t really have anyone else.

I had a few friends in college. Obviously, the girls I partied with, but the sad truth is since I was shipped off to live with my father, not one of them has called me.

No one cares.

I was a fun girl to hang out with and get drunk with, but when push came to shove, they weren’t real friends. There were never phone calls just to check in or chat. Every call came with a motive, and it was always attached to a night on the town and me acting as the wingwoman for one of my more flirtatious friends.

I also realize that I was the one initiating the friendship. I always went out of my way to remind the girls that I was there and ready to hang out.

And it’s even more obvious that I was a last thought, being as though none of them have bothered to check on me.

“She’s nothing like me.”

I look up, eyes narrowed in on Dane. “Huh?”

“Molly. I was saying she’s not like me.”

I’d been lost in my thoughts and had forgotten what we’d been talking about.

“Can you tell me about her?”

I doubt he will, but when he pulls the car up to the now empty practice facility, he pivots in his seat and looks at me.


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