Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
They look like shit. I’m stunned. Brad seems thin and gaunt and pale. His eyes twitch from side to side. Lavender’s worse: she’s all bones and stringy hair and a terrible low-cut top with bad tattoos and cheap nails. She leaps to her feet, glaring at me then at Nadia and Rowan.
“I thought we said for you to come alone? What the fuck is this?”
“They’re my friends. It’s fine, I’m here to pay you, okay?”
“More than you deserve, bitch,” Nadia says, crossing her arms.
“Fuck you. Do I even know you?” Lavender cocks a fist back. “I’m gonna break your smug fucking jaw, cunt.”
“Babe, stop it.” Brad appears at her side, grabbing her wrist and pulling it down. “That’s enough, okay? Let me handle this shit.”
“Fucking sluts.” Lavender spits on the floor at my shoes. “Bitch.” She slips into the booth and throws back her drink, scowling.
“Wow.” I look at Brad. He looks back sheepishly. “This is your life now, huh?”
“Look, I didn’t want this, okay? I’m sorry, Angie, I really am.”
“Don’t apologize to her, you dick,” Rowan snaps. “You’re no better than a rapist, you realize that, right?”
Brad flinches, looking away. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I take him in, and finally, any last attachment I felt for my former boyfriend fades. He’s small, scrawny, pathetic, and weak. I can’t believe I ever thought I loved him.
“I deserved better than you,” I say, taking out my phone. “You’re going to delete all my pictures?”
“I swear. But I thought we said cash?”
“I can’t get five thousand dollars out of a bank on short notice. We’ll do a transfer. Give me your details.”
Brad looks back in a panic. “But we said cash. I mean, do we have a bank, babe?”
“FUCK YOU,” Lavender screams. “We had a deal!”
Rowan starts yelling. Nadia shouts too. Brad shrinks back, making himself small, and I feel the moment about to spiral. This isn’t how I wanted it to go down. Lavender’s waving a bottle around, threatening to kill everyone, and I don’t know what to do.
Until a shadow falls across the booth.
Lavender stops first. Her jaw drops open. She sinks down, lowering the bottle. Then Rowan yelps in alarm and I turn.
Connor looms over us.
Oh, shit.
My husband’s eyes settle on me. His face is impassive and hard. Compared to Brad, he’s a god on earth. Connor’s jaw is cut and sharp, and his tattoos look like fire on his gorgeous tan skin. He fills out his suit like it’s going to break.
“Nadia, please take my little sister outside. I have a car waiting for her.”
Nadia clears her throat. “Uhm, yes, right away, Mr. Maguire.”
“Thank you.”
Rowan allows herself to be dragged away. She cringes at me apologetically, but then my friends are lost to the crowd.
Leaving me alone with my ex, my current, and a crazy bitch.
Connor steps forward. His bulk presses to my side protectively. He faces Lavender down before turning to Brad.
“Here is what will happen,” he says, speaking slowly and clearly. Brad trembles, deadly white and sweating. “You will delete my wife’s photos and videos. You will smash your hard drive with a hammer. I will send a man to ensure this happens. Do you understand?”
“Y-y-yes, Mr. Maguire. Sorry, Mr. Maguire.” Brad stammers, flinching away.
“Apologize to my wife.”
“I’m sorry, Angie!”
“You too, Ms. Lavender.”
“I’m sorry.” Lavender keeps her eyes down in her lap. “I didn’t mean it. I really didn’t. The money—“
Connor grabs Brad by the throat and slams him against the wall.
It happens so fast. One moment we’re talking, Lavender is apologizing, and the next Brad’s skull bounces against the plaster. He groans as Connor draws a knife from his belt.
“Please,” Brad gags.
Connor drives the blade into Brad’s right knee, stabbing deep.
He screams in horror. Connor twists and yanks, the steel coming free in a spray of blood. I see bone, cartilage, something yellow. Brad collapses to the floor, sobbing in pain.
Lavender tries to scramble away, but Connor catches her by the hair. His face is calm as he carves a line down her right cheek, cutting her from eye to jaw, then saws away her long hair, tossing the severed locks down over Brad.
“Photographs will be deleted,” Connor repeats, shoving his knife away. I’m aware of people staring. Blood wells down Lavender’s face, dripping down her front. Brad’s rolling in a pool of it, sobbing. I don’t think he’ll ever walk right again. “My men will confirm.” Connor offers me his arm. “Wife? Shall we?”
As if in a dream, I slip my hand against his elbow, and he draws me back through the bar. “Cover your face, angel,” he says quietly, holding a hand to block his eyes as if shading them from the sun.
I realize why. Phones are held up all around. I quickly duck my head and raise my arm, stumbling after him, until we’re out on the sidewalk again.