Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I didn’t feel a thing because I was wearing steel-toed boots.
Which she also found annoying.
She sprawled into her seat, and the judge raised a brow at her.
She flushed.
“Okay, you’re up, Mr. Foley.”
“Mr. Tramaine, can you tell us a little bit about your sleep? I noticed you told Mr. El Dorado that you weren’t sleeping well.”
“I actually have some printouts,” he said. “I use a ring that tracks my sleep and health. I can show you these and you can see exactly when I wake up when those stupid sounds go off in the middle of the night.”
The judge turned to look where his sleep study was put onto the large screen to the right of us.
Everyone turned to survey it, and I noted several spots where you could see that REM was disturbed.
If he was even in REM.
Most of the time he was in the lighter version of sleep.
Which was dangerous to your health.
It was okay for short term, but long term? That was bad.
“I am irritable, can’t take naps. My job performance is suffering. My wife had to move in with our daughter!”
I listened as several other residents from the same area came up and told their stories.
All of them had the same stories.
After the fourth identical one, the judge called for lunch and everyone was let out.
Since lunch was provided for the jurors, I hadn’t intended to go out to lunch today like I had yesterday.
I held the door open for damn near everyone as I exited, wondering how I’d gotten stuck with the task.
As I got up to the line, the little shit in front of me took both of the last sandwiches, tossing me a haughty look over her shoulder.
I rolled my eyes, studied what was left of the table, and decided the sub shop down the road was close and fast enough.
When I got back, everyone was already in place, so I took my seat and listened to the rest of the same old, same old.
Thankfully, we ended the day slightly early, and I could skip out.
My phone had been buzzing in my pocket for an hour now.
I pulled it out and sighed as I got a good look at the readout.
My assistant, Moses.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We got a hot one,” he said. “Dead teen. You think you can get here?”
I looked at my watch. “Sure thing.”
This time I didn’t try to hold the door for everyone. I just walked out, very aware of the woman practically running behind me trying to keep up with me.
As I left, I pushed through the doors, letting them swing closed on the woman stomping out from behind me.
When she followed me all the way to my bike, I finally looked back at her.
“You mind giving me a ride again?” She angrily shifted from foot to foot.
I eyed her sneer and her angry eyes and said, “Find your own way home, Red.”
“But…”
I got on my bike.
No way was I giving her a ride home when she couldn’t even be grateful or say thank you.
Not to mention, she’d purposefully eaten the last sandwich when she’d known she already had one.
I was hungry, tired, and wanted to ride a hell of a lot faster than she could probably handle.
She could find her own way home.
Six
I’m going to get the last word. I don’t care if I have to mail it to you.
—Constance to Odin
Constance
Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have been such a shit to the man that was my ride home.
I couldn’t stop the smile that turned up my lips, though.
Mostly because I found it funny that I’d gotten to him.
I opened my rideshare app and found a person willing to drive me two hours and then closed it down and waited.
I was sitting on the planter outside the courthouse when I heard the lawyer for the data center come out complaining.
“This is ridiculous,” the man said. “You didn’t share pertinent details about this, sir. This is a big deal.”
I listened quietly as the man spoke to someone on the phone.
“The environmental scientist will be here tomorrow. Let’s hope I can discredit him and his findings. Today was a shit show.”
I watched the lawyer walk to a fancy Mercedes and drive off.
As he did, a bike across the road caught my eye.
My heart stuttered inside my chest as I saw the man on the bike start it up and drive off.
Covered from head to toe in leather, there was nothing about the man that was identifiable.
But also, the man had no Dixie Wardens cut on his shoulders, either.
So there was at least that.
Errol wouldn’t have been caught dead without that cut on his back.
At that last thought, I instantly relaxed.
No, that definitely wasn’t Errol.
His loyalty to that club was above all others.
My Uber arrived, just as a bike zoomed up and came to a stop behind the Uber.