Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
But it got caught in my chest when the door opened again.
And there was Seth, giving me a knowing smile.
“I knew you’d show up to stick it to him, being all beautiful and shit, showing him what he missed out on,” Seth said as he walked over toward the prospect table, slipping a few chips back into their rightful places in the holder. “Didn’t see you prospecting.”
“You pissed about it?”
“About you coming in and starting shit?” Seth asked, chuckling. “Have we met? I live for that shit. Maybe wondering if you thought it through.”
“I have. Believe it or not. What?” I asked when his head shook.
“Nothing. It’s your life.”
Damn right it was. And I wasn’t going to entertain anyone else’s opinions on it.
“How long have you been here?”
“Pretty much since finishing school,” he said, shrugging.
“So you got the hazing from all the dads and uncles.”
“Yeah, fun shit,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all worth it, though.”
“Adrenaline junkie?” I asked, figuring that was the main reason the guys wanted to do it, other than the good money and bragging rights.
“Not really. Some of the guys thrive on it. I just really loved growing up in the club. Always wanted to be a part of it. And Fallon is diversifying a lot. He’s having me open my own range.”
“Range. As in shooting range?” I clarified.
“Yep.”
“Right. Because your dad is like a sharpshooter and shit, right?”
“Right.”
“What?” I asked.
“Depends. What are your feelings on being humble?” he asked, shooting me a smirk.
“It for chumps. If you’re good, you’re good. No reason to say play it down.”
“Alright. Then I have been showing up my old man since I was fifteen.”
“No shit. Good for you. Are you excited about being, you know, a business owner?” I asked, feeling a bit like a little girl around a big, mature grown-up. One with plans for the future and all sorts of responsibilities. While I’d been avoiding both for so long.
“Yeah. So what have you been doing since high school?” he asked.
“Traveling,” I told him.
“Just traveling?” he asked, eyes a little more keen than I expected from him.
“And doing some odd jobs,” I told him.
“Odd jobs,” he repeated. “The kind of jobs your old man is known for?”
“My old man is retired,” I told him.
“Sure sure,” Seth said, nodding. “You ever think how long the nights are gonna be in here?” Seth asked, looking back toward the beds.
“Why does that sound like you are going to make it your mission to make sure we don’t have anything at night to occupy our time?” I asked as he made his way to the door.
“Because you know me pretty well, it seems,” he said, shooting me a smirk over his shoulder before heading out.
I took another minute to calm my heart before exploring the storage cabinets that looked like they would have plenty of room. I didn’t have much. I was accustomed to living out of duffle bags or large backpacks. But it would be nice to have room to add a couple more items to my wardrobe.
The bathroom was nothing to write home about.
You walked in to a double vanity with a huge mirror. And off to each side were small rooms with toilets and stall showers.
So at least there was some semblance of privacy.
I wouldn’t complain.
I’d been to places where communal showers—without stalls—were the norm. And places where squatting over a hole in the ground was as close as you came to a toilet.
So I was just glad for indoor plumbing and a door.
Even if I was going to be sharing them with guys.
“Louana,” a voice said, making me step out of the bathroom to find the tall, handsome Black man from the common area standing there.
“Brooks, right?” I clarified.
“Yep.”
“You’re in charge.”
“Of you all, yeah,” he confirmed.
“Do you need something from me?” I asked.
“I need you not to start shit,” he said, giving me a knowing look, despite never having seen me before. “I won’t pretend to know you or your motivations for being here, but I get that there is history that might be impacting your decision to be here.”
“I was never going to start shit. Or, at least, not with anyone but Valen,” I conceded. “I’m not going to give you a hard time.”
“Look,” he said, moving inward, making sure we were alone. “There is a lot of Legacy here. Guys who skate by because they know they are getting in, even if they don’t work for it. I’m doing my best to make sure everyone earns it. And it’s fucking important to work for it. Makes you appreciate it more.”
“I agree. And I plan to work.”
“Even if you don’t plan on patching in?” he asked, reading me a little too well.
“Yes, even if. I will pull my own weight. I will pull half of theirs,” I said, waving toward the abandoned beds, “if that is what you need from me.”