M.N. Forgy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read

M.N. Forgy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com Thu, 20 Jul 2023 19:37:06 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.9.4 http://www.books2020.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/09/favicon.png M.N. Forgy – Read Books Online Free Ebooks good best novels to read http://www.books2020.com 32 32 Blunted (Rush Riders MC #1) Read Online M.N. Forgy http://www.books2020.com/blunted-rush-riders-mc1-read-online-m-n-forgy Thu, 20 Jul 2023 19:20:19 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/blunted-rush-riders-mc1-read-online-m-n-forgy Genre: Alpha Male, Virgin Authors: M.N. Forgy Series: Rush Riders MCSeries by M.N. Forgy
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Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)

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This book was written by mother who passed away from cancer in February. I found this on her computer and knew she had been talking about publishing it, but she didn’t make it to see that happen. It wasn’t done and I was giddy to add some Forgy flare to it. Now it’s ready for the world. This is for you mom.

From the author of best selling Devil’s Dust MC, M.N. Forgy and her mother give a whole new rush and spark in the bedroom.

I came to the Rush Riders Motorcycle Club to help a friend out, get them out of trouble, and before I knew it, I became a member. Fast women, drugs, whiskey, and fights were all things I expected and was ready for. A young woman walking into the club selling drugs wasn’t. C was everywhere I didn’t want her to be. Her naïve personality was resilient to my asshole attempts to run her off. The next thing I knew, I wanted more than to take her to my bed. We were like a match to gasoline, the combustion so powerful not even I could walk away. I wanted to dominate her, to make her mine, which would have been an amazing plan if our worlds hadn’t collided, leaving me with having to choose between my club and her.
Can the rules of the Rush Riders MC bend to my will, or will the brotherhood mean nothing?
If they want a war, I’ll give it to them.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

C

“I think you’re going to really like this place,” Mrs. Ruth, the agent from the real estate management company, says. Driving us to yet another place for me to look at. Mrs. Ruth is the stereotypical real estate agent. She has short brown hair, pale skin, and is always wearing a pantsuit. “It has three condos in the building and only one of them is occupied. The gentleman who lives on the third floor owns the first-floor condo too, but just uses it for storage and guests. He is some bigwig business guy, but truthfully, I don't know much about him,” she continues to explain.

“So, I’m looking at the second-floor condo?” I ask, confused.

“Yes,” she responds with a nod of her head.

“The rent is cheap because the elevator went out several years ago and the owners didn’t want to invest in replacing it, apparently it could not be fixed. They really were hoping to sell this unit and just be done with the building, but the last tenant just up and moved out unexpectedly, no notice or anything. Anyway, the real estate agent the building owner was dealing with went on vacation overseas and they could not reach him, and since they were leaving for Spain, they just decided to rent it out for now, instead of dealing with the hassle of selling it while in another country. So, if you don’t mind climbing a few stairs, this place is a steal, and you have an option to buy in a year after the lease is up and the owners are back,” she explains, more rambling than anything.

If that is all I have to deal with is stairs and one other tenant, then this place will be perfect. I have lived in apartment buildings that were crammed with tenants on each floor. When you get that many people living in one building, people become involved in everyone’s business, and you start to get a little testy.

“Well, stairs don’t bother me. I run every day and go to the gym three times a week, so I just see it as another way to get exercise,” I boast. “And, if I only have one neighbor to deal with, then so far this place sounds like it might be perfect,” I continue.

Turning onto Skylark, we drive for a half mile before coming to the building. I am happy to see it is the only building sitting at the end of a dead-end street. No traffic and no pesky neighbors. The building itself is made of red brick with white shuttered windows facing the street, with a few bushes out front surrounding the entryway. It definitely could use some landscaping, but I could fix that if I wanted to. There is a balcony coming off the third-floor unit out front, but that is the only one I see from this side of the building. Taking out a key from her suit jacket, Mrs. Ruth explains the building requires a key to get in or you have to be buzzed in by the intercom. She points to the direction of the intercom that is built into the wall to the right of the main door, located by three locking mailboxes also built into the wall. I like the added security that a key or intercom is needed to enter the building. Walking in the lobby, it’s plain but clean. It has commercial tile flooring with a doormat to wipe your shoes, and beige-colored walls. To the right is a door that reads, 1. This must be the condo the guy on the third floor owns and to the left is the elevator that does not work. It has yellow tape across it with a sign reading Out of Order. After scanning the lobby for a few seconds, I follow Mrs. Ruth up twenty steps to the second-floor landing, to the left of the landing is the broken elevator. To the right is the door reading 2, the condo I am here to see about renting.

Mrs. Ruth pulls another key from her pocket, sticking it into the lock of the condo door. The key seems to jam, and she has to wiggle it back and forth several times to get the locking mechanism to release before the door will open.

“I will have the maintenance guys come out and replace this lock soon,” she says apologetically.

Moving to the side, she motions for me to enter first; she follows behind me shutting the door. Entering the condo, the living room is large and cozy with light-colored carpet and floor-to-ceiling windows on the right that overlook the parking lot. Along the same wall is the entryway to the kitchen. I step into the kitchen and spot a set of French doors on the right side of the room that leads outside to a spacious balcony. Walking out onto the balcony, I surmise it could hold ten people comfortably with patio furniture included. Walking to the edge and looking over the wood rail I see there is a swimming pool surrounded by a concrete patio coming off the first-floor condo. “Swimming pool?” I question, I don’t remember her saying anything about a pool.

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Advertisement Where Love Lies Read Online M.N. Forgy http://www.books2020.com/where-love-lies-read-online-m-n-forgy Wed, 02 Nov 2022 21:50:10 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/where-love-lies-read-online-m-n-forgy Genre: Romance, Suspense, Thriller Authors: M.N. Forgy Advertisement

Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >83

Feeling completely sapped of life, Rain and her daughter move to the suburbs of Fairview, where white picket fences, welcoming neighbors, and immaculate green lawns make her forget the pain she’s running from. Settling into her new life, she can’t stop thinking about the guy who wrecked her car. He’s charming, says the right things, and crashed into her life right when she needs it the most. It’s only natural Mr. Handsome presents Rai with a big, shiny rock to make it picture perfect.
Then a new neighbor moves down the street. Menacing sleeves of tattoos, a permanent scowl, single with no kids—he doesn’t belong in this family-friendly community.
People are whispering.
Doors are staying locked.
Secrets are being shared.
Heart pleasing love doesn’t exist here. It digs a grave and lies in it, whispering untold truths. The quaint town of Fairview isn’t so safe anymore—and neither is Rain.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

1

The sun’s rays brush yellow hues across the naked sky as I drive away from the city of Charlotte, South Carolina. My entire childhood in the rearview mirror. Windows down, a warm, earthy breeze fills the car, causing an open cardboard box in the back to flap with the wind. With both hands on the wheel, my seat way too far up because I’m short and can’t reach the pedals, I adjust my round sunglasses, focusing on the road.

My thirteen-year-old daughter, Paige, shuffles in the passenger seat, huffs then places her scuffed Converse on the dash, a smiley face on the tip, from a permanent marker, beaming at us. Her brown eyes stare out the window, her jaw pulled tight in irritation.

“Babe, you can stay in touch with your friends.”

“It’s not the same,” she says with an exhale, rolling her eyes. I can’t help but notice how much she looks like her dad right now.

“You excited for a bigger room?” I try to make conversation, hoping if we focus on something exciting, it will distract her from all the things that aren’t. Sighing, she drops her phone in her lap.

“I don’t know. Everything seems wrong without Grandma.” She squints up at me, her usually bright eyes bathed in grief. Moving to the suburbs placed forty miles out of town without my mom feels unnatural. She should be here. It was her dream for all of us to move to the suburbs because she couldn’t give me that life when I was a child. We wouldn’t even be moving now if it weren’t for the inheritance she left behind. I have a feeling I would appreciate it a lot more as an adult anyways. Licking my lips, I try to ignore the pressing loneliness that freezes time now that she’s gone. It’s been two weeks since she died but it feels like it’s been three months.

Squealing tires peal behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. The sound of metal crunching and glass shattering echoes around me. My body stiffens seconds before I’m thrust forward then snapped back against my seat from the seat belt catching. The quick tug makes my chest tighten and my body instantly ache. A loud whoosh of dust fills the car as the airbag deploys, punching me in the left side of the face. Our SUV careens to the side of the road before coming to an abrupt stop on the edge of the shoulder of the highway. Smoke plumes around the car, and I can’t help but cough. I bat at the airbag, adrenaline flowing through my body as I reach into the passenger seat for my daughter.

“Paige! Paige! Are you okay?” My hand swipes nothing but air.

Debris starts to settle, and I finally see her through the fog. She has one hand on the roof, one on the console between us, her body resting against the door. Thank god she had her seat belt on. She could have slammed into the dashboard or thrown from the car cracking her skull open. Her chest heaves as she looks around, her face pale from shock.

“Oh my God, Paige! Are you okay?” I grasp her by the cheeks, looking into her wide, scared eyes. Turning her head to look for injuries, I find a small cut on her cheek.

“Shit,” I whisper, inspecting it closely. It’s pretty deep for how small it is. I slide my hands down her arms to her hands, searching for other cuts. She seems to be fine other than her trembling state and labored breathing.

“What the hell!” she finally screams, spittle spewing from her bottom lip. There’s that mouth. She’s fine. Pulling her to me, I slowly release a breath, thanking God that she’s okay. I start feeling the pain from the wreck. Suddenly, I feel the tight pull in the nape of my neck and the strain in my chest. My head throbs. I think I might puke from the anxiety racing through me like a drug. If I’m this bad I can’t imagine what pain Paige is in.

“We should call an ambulance to get you checked out for internal injuries, babe.”

“No! How embarrassing! I’m fine.” She smacks my hands away, forcing me to back away. Her eyes fill with tears and body shaking she looks around the car. The first thing I notice is that damn cut; it looks bad. Blood spills from the wound, the magenta and plum hues from inflammation making her cheek look like a starfruit. She needs to be seen, regardless of what she wants.

Pressing her hand to her face, she applies pressure to the wound and kicks the airbag away from her. “I’m fine, Mom, really.”

Looking over my shoulder, I see traffic has stopped from the wreck.

“I should go check on the people that hit us.”

“Yeah, go. I’ll stay here,” she says on an exhale, resting her head on the headrest.

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Advertisement The Secrets That Find Us – Devils Dust MC Legacy Read Online M.N. Forgy http://www.books2020.com/the-secrets-that-find-us-devils-dust-mc-legacy-read-online-m-n-forgy Sun, 16 May 2021 14:29:05 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/the-secrets-that-find-us-devils-dust-mc-legacy-read-online-m-n-forgy Genre: Alpha Male, Biker, Mafia, MC, Romance, Suspense Authors: M.N. Forgy Advertisement

Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)

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Read Online Books/Novels:	The Secrets That Find Us - Devils Dust MC Legacy
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	M.N. Forgy
Language:	English
Book Information:
I have a job to do:Watch the club princess, don’t touch her, then report back to the president of the Devil’s Dust MC. But I have to step out of my place as a prospect to save the spoiled brat. She thinks she’s cute, trying to tempt me to break her dad’s one rule. What she doesn’t know is that I’ll throw her over my knee and spank the daddy issues from her until she’s looking nowhere but at me. That’s the plan, until secrets emerge from our pasts that spark a ravenous surge of destruction and chaos, and have us both wondering where we stand in the final ride.
Books by Author:	M.N. Forgy

Prologue

Delilah

Sixteen Years Old

Reaching for the black Harley t-shirt with skulls and flowers on it hanging from a rope with clothespins, I knead the material between my fingers, my eyes scanning the shirt right next to it that has turquoise stones on it with guns and roses screen printed. This vendor has the best looking shirts and I want to get one before they close up shop.

“Get that one.”

My head snaps to the sound of a male voice. A guy stands right next to me that wasn’t there a few minutes ago. How long has he been standing there? His dirty blond hair falls in his sapphire eyes, red cheeks that taper into a strong jaw, and fuck me if he doesn’t have the sexiest crooked smirk I’ve ever seen.

“This one?” I point to the turquoise shirt with guns and roses, a small smile pulling at my cherry ChapStick-covered lips.

“Yeah, it’ll bring out the color of your eyes,” he flirts, and I look away just as my cheeks begin to flush.

He’s cheesy, but hell if it isn’t working. But not many guys know the color of a girl’s eyes in the first few minutes of talking to each other. Besides, he’s quite handsome, tempting even. Gazing at him from the corner of my eyes, I nervously chew on my thumbnail. Hmm, he doesn’t look like a biker’s son, he’s too clean. Most guys his age have skull rings on their fingers, a leather cut or jacket, and scars marring their skin. I can’t help but look for these things when finding someone attractive because I can’t even look in the direction of another club besides my own. It’s too risky. They could be wanting details on how my father runs his club on the inside; using me. It sounds arrogant, but these things have been pounded into my head and heart since I was a little girl. My parents don’t trust anyone outside our club or around me.

“What brings you to the rally?” I decide to ask. Curious why he’s even talking to me. Is he from another MC? Does he know who I am?

“My parents have a booth here, we paint helmets and shit. Just trying to get our names out for business,” he says, pulling the shirt we were looking at down from the clothespin and hands it over to the lady behind the table.

She’s short and stout with a belly hanging over a tight pair of jeans, her tits are screaming for a bra as they spill from her black spaghetti strap top. It’s hard not to stare at them.

I guess that would explain why I’ve never seen him at this rally before. We do it every year, making up a bike and auctioning it off for charity. My dad says it helps us get on the locals’ good side when our own dirty laundry hits the streets from time to time.

“Name is Thane,” he casually informs, handing the chick a twenty-dollar bill.

Spinning on my heel, I slip my hands into the back pockets of my shorts. “Delilah.” I look at my Chucks kicking the dirt around on the ground when I say it.

“Huh, I’ve never met a Delilah before.”

Peering up under my lashes, he smirks and I feel my whole body heat from the eye contact. Taking the bag from the big-titted lady, he hands it to me.

I nibble on my thumbnail again, eyes gazing down at the bag he wants me to take. I don’t know, I mean, I don’t even know this guy. Why would he buy this for me?

“Please take it, if you don’t, my boys will give me shit for the rest of the night.” A deep pitched laugh racks his chest and he looks over his shoulder. I follow his gaze and spot a couple of guys standing a few booths back, watching intently.

I laugh. It’s cute that he built up the courage to talk to me when his boys thought I’d reject him. I know how guys can be when it comes to things like this. I mean, I live around a club of bikers that are always giving each other shit, so I take the bag with the shirt inside. I can’t help but wonder if his stomach knotted before he talked to me. Did his whole body rush with a nervous warmth being next to me? Because that is exactly what I’m feeling at this very moment.

I want to act like I don’t care about his existence and play hard to get, but I’m failing miserably. He’s caught me off guard, and with every giggle, I feel my sanity melting into a pool of bimbo around my feet.

“Want your receipt?” The lady behind the booth holds a piece of ripped paper to Thane.

He takes it and plucks a pen from beside the register sitting on the gray table with folded shirts. He scribbles something on the paper and hands it to me.

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Advertisement Beautiful Thief (Omerta Law #2) Read Online M.N. Forgy http://www.books2020.com/beautiful-thief-omerta-law-2-read-online-m-n-forgy Sun, 25 Oct 2020 15:06:40 +0000 http://www.booksnovels.com/beautiful-thief-omerta-law-2-read-online-m-n-forgy Genre: Crime, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance, Suspense Authors: M.N. Forgy Series: Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
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Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >64

Read Online Books/Novels:	Beautiful Thief (Omerta Law #2)
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	M.N. Forgy
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08CRKH94Y
Book Information:
My name may be Romeo, but I’m far from romantic. My brother betrayed the family, forcing me into the role of underboss beneath the criminal mastermind that is our father. I’ve never been a merciless criminal, and my father tests my resolve by giving me a stolen woman, knowing the situation disturbs me. What he doesn’t know is the disheveled beauty intrigues me. She tried to kill me with my own gun on the first night, pushing my fixation into a dangerous addiction. She’s unknowingly teaching me the power I have, and now I’m going to take over my father’s empire. It’s a cold dark path to the top and I’m finally ready to lead the way.
Books in Series:	Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
Books by Author:	M.N. Forgy

“These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Which, as they kiss, consume”

― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Prologue

Romeo

Age Ten

Waking up cold, I notice my head hurts, and so does my leg. I blink a few times, the lights from above hazy and not helping the drum banging inside my skull. Using my hands to push to sitting up, I notice I can’t move them. Looking down, I’m in one of those straitjacket things, and my shorts are gone and replaced with a pair of white scrubs. My heart begins to beat so hard in my chest it feels like it’s lodged in my throat. Using my shoulders, I try to inch my arms down in an attempt to get out of the jacket. My body temperature rises with my failed attempt, and I suddenly feel sad, but still angry. How could my father let this happen to me?

Sliding off the bed, the cold black and white tile beneath my feet, I look to the door that is open, everything slowly coming back to me.

Sitting in the far back of the class, I’m slouched back, tapping the head of a pencil on the scratched up desk. The lights right above my head are bright, giving me a headache. The hard blue plastic chair is uncomfortable. I fidget in my seat, noticing the shirt clinging to my skin. I’m sweating for some reason, and my legs feel restless. The heel of my black Nikes have constantly tapped the tiled floor since class started over an hour ago. I’m off today, angry and annoyed. Pissed that I have to be here. I tried to stay home, but my mother wouldn’t have it. She made me go, which made me want to lash out even more. Father has suggested that my brother and I stay home multiple times because it’d be safer for us, but my mother refuses to acknowledge that the crime my father runs is as cold as the victims he’s subdued.

“Romeo, why don’t you read the next paragraph?” Mrs. Honey asked. My eyes peek through my eyelashes, my jaw tightens as everyone turns in their seat to look at me. Mrs. Honey. The sweet teacher that wears long flower dresses and has the hair color of actual honey. She should be teaching kindergarteners, not fifth graders.

“Pass,” I grumbled under my breath. I hate reading to the class and she knows this. I wish she’d just leave me alone today. I don’t want to be bothered.

“No, give it a try,” she pushes, and the unusual feeling I had inside of me since I woke up this morning breeds into something hostile and monstrous. Casen and Gunther laugh to themselves from the other side of the class and my eyes snap to them, both of them side-eyeing me. The cool kids, at least they think they are. Both with shaved heads, with band name t-shirts and ripped jeans. They’re just bullies and dumb fucks. Someone needs to show that Casen he’s not as tough as he thinks he is.

Sitting forward, I sigh heavily and flip the textbook open.

“Page 356, Taming the shrew,” Mrs. Honey instructs.

Swallowing the dryness suddenly in the back of my throat, the small black words seem like a lot, and are intimidating. My feet tap harder and faster, and I run my nails across the back of my neck nervously. I can read, but I do struggle with bigger words, and I hate reading out loud like this in class.

“Sit- sit by my side, and let the world… let the world slip…” My words fade, and I wipe my forehead of a sudden sweat. I’m screwing this up. I can feel all eyes on me, and I wish the book would just eat me whole. Why is it so damn hot in here?

“Keep going,” Mrs. Honey instructs with that sweet as candy voice.

“He can’t read, he’s stupid, teach’!” Casen shouts, the entire class erupting into laughter. I shove my book off the desk and look to him.

“Fuck you!” I snarl and stand from my seat.

“You wanna go, rich kid?”

“Whoa! No, both of you take your seats!” The teacher raises her hands, her head popping between me and Casen.

Not listening, I push through the desks and forcefully wrap my arm around his neck, he grunts, and I tighten my hold. Pulling him down, I punch him in the mouth with my other hand and Mrs. Honey lets out a scream when blood splatters to the class floor.

Casen cries out with pain, his arms flailing to reach me. Letting go of him, I let him get to his feet and then I shove him into a bunch of desks watching him tumble and fall across the floor like the weak little bitch that he is. Mrs. Honey hurries to separate us, blocking me from coming at him again.

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Advertisement Beautiful Criminal Read online M.N. Forgy (Omerta Law #1) http://www.books2020.com/beautiful-criminal-1-read-online-m-n-forgy Sun, 15 Mar 2020 01:57:33 +0000 http://www.test123.demo2.xyz/beautiful-criminal-1-read-online-m-n-forgy Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Romance, Suspense Authors: M.N. Forgy Series: Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)

<<<<1 2 3 11 21 >63

Read Online Books/Novels:	(Omerta Law #1) Beautiful Criminal
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:	M.N. Forgy
Language:	English
ISBN/ ASIN:	B08921MLH8
Book Information:
As the son of the infamous boss of the DeAngelo family, I have merciless duties expected of me. The public labels me a monster, a man without a soul, and one hated by many. They’re not wrong, and I’m not sorry for it. When my father orders me to marry a longtime enemy’s daughter to settle a score between our families, she did what any smart woman with a beating heart would do. She ran. So, I found her. She tries to negotiate for her freedom, but despite being inexplicably drawn to the deviant woman, I refuse her pitiful bribes with pleasure. I still have a job to do, and I’ll make her tell me her family’s secrets, turning a treacherous situation into a game of hatred. A code of silence will be broken. Lines will be crossed. I’ll promise her freedom to get the answers I need, but I’ll burn this city to the ground before I let her go.
Books in Series:	Omerta Law Series by M.N. Forgy
Books by Author:	M.N. Forgy

Prologue

Fifteen Years Earlier

Age Ten

Kieran

My small hands grip the splintered shovel handle a little tighter as I drive the head into the damp dirt. My palms are sweaty, making it harder to hold on to the tool causing it to tire me out. A grunt presses from my chest as I try to shake the soil loose and toss the crumbles up onto the ground which is now well above my head. Standing up straight, I barely see my dad who’s sitting on the bumper of our car, headlights blinding me in the midst of the dark night. My eyes shift to the bloody sheets wrapped around what looks like a body lying on the ground next to the grave I’m digging.

“Who is this guy anyway?” I ask out of breath. I’m not afraid or scared of what’s happening. I know if this guy is dead, it’s because he’s a bad guy. I know this guy being dead, he brought it on himself. My father always says, “I only hurt those that karma missed. Respect is earned and so is the calling of the Reaper.” Besides, fear isn’t a part of the life I’m built to lead.

Dad gives me a pointed look before removing the cigar from in between his lips. His suit without a wrinkle, and shoes without a speck of dirt, he is put together like this is another day at the office. I always look anywhere but in his eyes, because when I see those dark brown irises, it makes my stomach do weird things. The feeling reminds me of when I’m about to do something real dangerous and my stomach gets this sick feeling as if it’s a warning.

“Why’s it gotta be a guy, maybe it’s a woman?” he grumbles, pointing the cherry lit end of this cigar at me. “Just keep digging. Yeah?”

Shaking my head, I wipe my forehead of the sweat dripping in my eyes only to end up smudging dirt across my face. I huff and keep scraping the hard earth free of its dirt, but my eyes keep drifting to the body. It doesn’t look like it has boobs like a woman would, it has to be a man. I don’t dare ask a second time. If my father felt like sharing, he would have. No, I know enough to know it’s time to keep my head down and do the task at hand.

A foot steps onto the body, rolling it out of my sight.

Catching me staring at the dead person, my father yells, “I said keep diggin’!”

I do as I’m told, but I can’t help but notice him. I see my brother sitting in the passenger seat hunched over, puke caking the front of his new shirt mom just bought. His dark hair is matted down with sweat, and his face is pale. I want to climb out of the hole and check on him, but that would really piss our pops off. Dad had him down here helping me, but Romeo couldn’t handle the smell or the sight of blood and puked all over himself. Dad ripped him away from me and shoved him toward the car, cursing at him in Italian.

The smell or sight of the body doesn’t bother me, I don’t know why it doesn’t.

It just doesn’t.

I’m more curious than anything. The questions swirl in my mind rather than fear about the lifeless body in front of me. I want to know who it is. I want to pull back the sheet and see if he was shot or beat to death. Is he all bloody? In my mind, I run over the many things he could have done wrong to earn his death.

That’s the difference between me and Romeo, he’s got a heart and I, well, I guess I don’t. He’ll see a bird fall from a nest in Central Park and take it home to nurse it back to health. I’d be more intrigued if I could climb the tree the bird fell out of, leaving the bird to fend for itself. If it’s out of the nest the mom probably pushed it out knowing it was a weakling or sick. It’s the circle of life. If it can’t survive now, it won’t ever.

“That’s enough, Kieran, climb out,” Dad interrupts my thoughts.

I drop the shovel, out of breath. “Thank God,” I mutter. I flex my sore fingers, noticing a blister coming on between my thumb and index finger. I rub at it.

“Get the damn shovel!” Dad sneers, almost making me jump. I grab the tool and toss it out of the grave and then using both hands, I push up and grab onto the earth that is still intact to climb out. Managing to get mud and dirt all over me, including inside my shoes, I finally make it out.

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Read Online Books/Novels:

The Secrets That Find Us - Devils Dust MC Legacy

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

Read Online Books/Novels:

Beautiful Thief (Omerta Law #2)

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B08CRKH94Y

Read Online Books/Novels:

(Omerta Law #1) Beautiful Criminal

Author/Writer of Book/Novel:

English

B08921MLH8