Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I twist open the cap, the sharp scent hitting my nostrils as I pour a generous amount into the shaker.
Her blue eyes meet mine slowly, and there's something in them. Disappointment? Concern?
“I see you're still drinking,” she says, her voice carrying the same gentle reproach I remember from our teenage years.
I start to shake, letting the sound of ice crashing against metal drown out her words.
Flipping off the lid, I eye her as I pour the liquid into two martini glasses, even though I know she won’t be joining. “I see you're still judgmental.” I take a sip, letting the liquid rest on my tongue before swallowing. “What can I do for you?”
“I need somewhere to go.”
I pause, lowering the glass for a moment. “Why me? Why not mum? She misses you, you know.” Rounding the kitchen counter, I head into the living room and place both glasses onto the coffee table before unwrapping my hair from the towel.
“Because I can't. I…” Her breath catches, shoulders sagging. “Forget it.” She shoots up as fast as she sat down, and my heart shudders. She and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, but she’s my baby sister. I’d do anything for her.
“Wait!” She pauses, and I lower my voice to a softer tone. The kind she responds best to. “Of course you can stay here.” This opening is too perfect. “But you have to come out tonight.”
She freezes, eyes stretching wide. “What do you mean?”
A smirk tugs at my lips. “You have to come out tonight. It's just me and...”
“Forget it.” She continues to the front door. “I'll take my chances homeless.”
I rush across the room and grab her arm. “Millie! Enough with the drama queen act. It's just one night, and then I'll back off—you can crash here as long as you want.”
She squints at me, suspicion written all over her face. “You mean it?”
I hold up my hands in surrender. “Cross my heart. Only catch is Chase might drop by sometimes.”
“Chase who?”
I flash a grin and wiggle my eyebrows, letting out a knowing laugh.
Her face falls instantly, the colour draining from her cheeks as realization dawns on her. A disgusted snarl escapes her mouth. “Ew. Are you still getting monthly checkups?”
I flip her off. “ Not all of us can be God's favourite little angel floating around on a cloud of righteousness. He needs a villain too, right? Someone's gotta balance out all that holiness you've got going on.”
Her face flushes crimson, and she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, avoiding me. “You chose to be a... you know...” she stammers, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggles to find the words.
I tilt my head, wondering if she’ll actually say it. “What, a whore?” I ask bluntly, watching as she practically jumps out of her skin at the word. I burst out laughing, swiping my glass and downing the spiked Espresso in one go. “Chill. It won’t be a late one.”
My sister and I have different coping mechanisms. She prefers silence and meditation; I need chaos and beer. Turns out, VIP sections in nightclubs are still too loud for her.
“Guys, this is Indie!” Phoebe yells over the loud music, gesturing toward her friend.
I smile politely at Indie before reaching for Phoebe. “Millie needs air. We'll be back.”
She nods, tugging the redhead's wrist as they disappear into the swaying crowd, and I trail behind Millie back toward the entrance. We’ve been here for an hour, and she already wants to leave.
I fist-punch Leslie, the bouncer, before running after Millie. She stops further down the street, far enough not to be interrupted by drunk laughter, but close enough that we can see if Phoebe and Indie leave.
“Okay,” I begin, running my hands up my arms, my mind sobering a little. “Spill. What's going on with you?”
She paces the curb, stilettos catching on broken concrete. Pressing her palm to her forehead, her fingertips quiver against her hairline. The club's neon sign flickers—green, violet, green—casting her face in bright light. Her shoulders rise and fall, faster now. Every time I think she’s going to say something, her mouth snaps closed.
“I’ve found myself in a bit of—”her words cut off as a black limousine rolls up beside us. Creepy.
I wave it away. “Move along, Pedo!”
But it stops, and the rear door clicks open. I freeze, something prickling over my spine. I don’t realize I’m pushing Millie behind my body until I feel her fingers wrap in mine from behind.
The back window slides down, revealing nothing but darkness.
“You have four seconds to get in this car,” someone murmurs lazily. “I don’t really like waiting, Melissa.”
“Ah… okay? I’ll just get my sister to go tell—” his chuckle cuts off my words, and dread settles in the pit of my stomach before he says the next words.