Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
“Two beers,” I say, smoothing my palm over the gloss mahogany wood.
A few seconds later, she places them down in front of me, shaking her head when I try to give her money. “Kings drink free.” She nods to my patch.
I knew that, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable if she didn’t. I’ve seen the video of her assault, and it makes me want to travel to the underworld to bring the cunt back to life so we can kill him all over again. I wonder if she knows that the men responsible are dead and that they suffered for what they did to her.
Something has changed in me lately. I fucking care more than I used to, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. Necking the first bottle, my hands tighten around the glass, and I peel the label off, flitting my eyes to the door. Where the fuck is he?
Some shitty song starts playing from the jukebox, and two women begin twirling each other like fucking idiots in the middle of the bar. I get to the bottom of the bottle I ordered for Callan when I realize I need to piss. I head to the bathrooms at the back of the bar, ignoring the giggles and appreciative glances. As soon as I take my dick out at the urinal, my phone rings.
“Yeah?” I answer, balancing my cell between my chin and shoulder.
“I’m out back,” Callan’s tone is sharp before he ends the call, not giving me a chance to respond.
Draining the pipe, I shake it and stuff it back in my jeans. What the fuck is he doing out back?
Wariness settles over me like a cloak. Something isn’t right. He knows. I can feel it in my bones. Slipping through the kitchen, I head for the fire exit and push out into the back parking lot. Callan’s leaning against his bike, his arms folded, legs crossed at the ankles. Dark eyes track my movement as I stride toward him.
Fire churns in my gut the closer I get, the dim glow of a street light highlighting the grim sneer on his face. Before I open my mouth to say anything, he pushes off the bike to his full height and swings at me. I see it coming, but let it land. His fist catches me in the jaw and almost knocks me on my ass. I don’t defend myself, taking what he needs to deliver. Another fist connects with my cheekbone then my lip. My legs weaken, and my head swims, making me dizzy. I stumble, crashing to the gravel with a thud, and spit out a wad of blood, the metallic twang expanding over my tongue.
“Kitty?” he seethes, looming over me like the grim reaper.
We’ve bickered before, but he’s never hit me with malice. “I love her,” I defend, swiping my hand across my mouth. Adrenaline pumps through my veins, making my skin vibrate.
“What the fuck are you talking about? You love her? You’ve always said she’s like a sister to you.” Tension leaks off him like sweat.
“No,” I grit out. “You always say that—not me.” Catching the breath the fucker knocked out of me, I ask, “Who told you?”
“Does it fucking matter? It wasn’t fucking you.” He kicks up a plume of dust in my direction, his hands braced on his hips.
“I was going to do it tonight,” I confess, dabbing the cut on my lip with the pad of my thumb as blood pools in my mouth from the gash in my inner cheek.
“That’s convenient,” he snaps. Turning away from me, he shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair.
“I know you don’t think I’m good enough for her, but I’ll prove to you I am. I want to be.”
Spinning to face me once more, he screws up his nose. “Why the fuck would I think that? You’ve been my best fucking friend my entire life. I love you like a brother, you fucking idiot.”
“You’ve always said you’d never want her with any brother.” My brow furls.
“You’re not just any brother!” he shouts, the sound echoing across the silent sky as he paces, his boots biting into the gravel.
“You wouldn’t have an issue with her and me?” I ask in disbelief, ignoring the throbbing in my face telling me otherwise.
“My issue is the deceit, motherfucker. You know I’ve been worried about her, and this whole time, you’re the fucking reason. I should cut your heart out of your fucking chest.”
“It’s complicated. Everything with the Carnells and Claire and Pres…” I push myself up in an attempt to stand, swaying on my feet. The motherfucker has a fist like a sledgehammer. I’m surprised he didn’t knock a tooth loose.
“You should never have been with Claire. And Pres already fucking knows. He told me.” He drives the words out with anger, his hands animated. Things have never been the same between Pres and me since Claire, but to go tattling to Callan to cause conflict seems beneath him.