Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Now I’ve got it on with some tights, similar to how I wore it for him, but with a cute belt like a big old dress.
It works. Mostly. Enough, anyway.
“Yet again you manage to make the impossible possible.” Cass orders a gin and tonic when my second beer arrives. We talk about family gossip, mutual friends, and how college is going for her. I smile and nod along, doing my best to be happy for her, while inwardly I’m burning with jealousy.
I wanted school. I applied and got accepted to six different universities, but my father made it clear that I wasn’t going anywhere. Even though I was getting recruited for gymnastics and I probably wasn’t going to have to pay much, if anything, in tuition. Your place is with your family, he’d said to me when I showed him my letter from Notre Dame. Not a smile, not a hug, no proud high-five, nothing. Just his usual glare and stern frown.
That was four years ago, and I’ve never gotten over it.
Cass is lucky, though. She’s a couple of years younger than me, and her parents are a little more permissive. She has to live in their house, but at least she gets to attend UBalt and get a degree.
While all I’ve done since graduating high school is learn how to pick a lock and jam open a window.
Finally, after finishing her first drink, she leans in close and gives me a sly smile. “So, I’ve been dying to ask—”
“And now you’re drunk enough to do it?”
She grins, bobbing her head up and down. “How are you feeling about the upcoming wedding?”
Nerves jangle in my stomach like pennies rattling around my guts. I touch the shirt and smooth it down, trying not to think about the smell of his room, that cold glass eye watching me as I stroked myself into orgasm, that incredible low voice talking to me the whole time. Calling me a slut, making me beg.
He left a mark on me, and I still haven’t even met him.
“I’m resigned,” I say, glaring down at my beer. I take a foamy sip and spin the glass in slow circles. “It’s important. I get it. But I’m not excited.”
“I know,” she says softly, leaning against my shoulder. “There haven’t been any attacks since the deal went down, though. That’s good, right? You’re like a hero or something.”
I shrug slightly. She’s right, nobody’s gotten hurt, all thanks to my noble sacrifice.
Except I was never given the choice of whether I wanted to be a hero or not.
And deep in my heart of hearts, I wonder if I would’ve had the courage to say yes.
“Want to hear something terrible? I know what’ll happen if I don’t go through with this, but I keep having a fantasy about running away.”
“Where would you go?” she asks.
“Somewhere warm. Probably in the Caribbean? Maybe down to Australia, as far as I can run.”
“Your dad would come looking.”
“Yeah, probably, and I’d be looking over my shoulder all my life, assuming he doesn’t catch me right away. That’s why I haven’t done it.”
She hugs me tightly. “I’m so sorry, Riles. I know this sucks. I wish I could do something to help.”
“It’s fine. Actually, I have an idea.”
“What do you need? Seriously, anything.”
“Help me fake my own death.”
She frowns a bit and squints at me. “I could borrow my dad’s car and make it look like you drove it into the harbor?”
“That’d be perfect. I always thought my death would be dramatic.”
“Should we light it on fire first?”
“Make it explode then drown it. A fitting end.”
“Just imagine how Brenden would feel.”
I glare at her. “Don’t ruin the fantasy by bringing up my brother.”
“Just saying.” She grins back sweetly. “He’d be pretty broken up if his little sister got killed in a car-drowning explosion.”
“Not like he’s here anyway. My big brother’s off on another one of his heists.” I throw back my second beer and gesture for another, even though I probably shouldn’t. Two Guinnesses and I’m fine. But three sometimes ends with trouble.
Four and I’ll find myself in jail.
“How’s that going anyway?” Cass asks, waving for her own drink refill.
“Who knows? He doesn’t communicate dick with me when he’s gone. That asshole shows up out of the blue, teaches me all the new tricks he learned out on his job, and then disappears again for weeks at a time.”
I love my older brother, and everything I know about stealing, pickpocketing, and general thievery comes from him, but he’s not the most reliable sibling in the world.
“Want me to ask around?” she offers, eyebrows raised. “I bet my brother knows something.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m getting married pretty soon. Not even the great Brenden McGrath would dare skip my wedding and risk my wrath.”
“Very good point,” she says with a laugh, and we clink our glasses together.