Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Ryan plants his hands on his hips. “Is that what Cole told you? Because that’s a fucking lie. Cole is the one that was throwing the games, and we just found out about it. You tell that asswipe to get back to school and confess to the principal and district office so the whole team doesn’t get punished.”
He disappears inside his apartment before we can ask another question.
“I guess Cole’s the bad guy,” Josie muses.
“Does explain why he’s dead.”
“But not who killed him.”
Chapter Fourteen
JOSIE
My mind should not be on whether Bam is going to stay over another night. There are bigger things to focus on. It’s hard, though, when he puts so much attention on me. I never thought I’d be one to preen because of a man, but here I am. The attention is addictive, and I find that I’m enjoying every damn second of his compliments. He makes me feel seen in a way no one else does.
“You need to eat.” Bam rests his hand at the nape of my neck as we walk down the sidewalk. The hold is only gentle but firm. I didn’t know such a thing could be erotic, but it’s oddly turning me on. It makes me feel a sense of protectiveness that has me relaxing.
“Yeah, people have to eat to live.” I shrug. I’ll get around to it.
“And it’s my job to keep you alive.” He turns us.
“Where are we going?” My house is a few blocks in the other direction. I was debating if Bam was going to come in or kiss me at the door, but he can’t kiss me at the door because my nosy-ass dad will see.
“To this little store on the corner.” He nods up ahead.
“For what?”
“Food order.”
“Food order? That’s a liquor store.” I point out the obvious.
“It’s where I had someone do a drop.”
“Do a drop,” I repeat. “That sounds so cool.”
“I’m glad you think our groceries are cool.” He chuckles. Our groceries? Why do I enjoy the sound of that so much?
“Wait, are we really getting food in there? There is a store right there.” I point to the grocery store across the way. It’s not a big fancy one, but you can make do and get the essentials there.
“They don’t have everything I wanted.” Bam opens the door for me. I pause.
“I’m only eighteen,” I whisper. Which he knows, but still. “Wait, can you get us fake IDs?” Now a million and one names I could choose for myself pop into my head. Once I met someone named Plum. Weird but interesting. Now I want a plum. I might be hungry after all.
“We don’t need them. You don’t have to be twenty-one to go into a liquor store, just to actually purchase the liquor.” Bam guides me inside.
Why did I not know this little fact? I mean, I’m not sure why else someone would go into one if not purchasing alcohol, but I learn something new every day. I can’t help but take in all the details. There is so much more to this place than alcohol.
“Bam.” A short man pops up from behind the counter, breaking me from all the thoughts running through my mind. He must have been sitting down. “I’ve got your drop.”
“Thanks, man,” he tells him. The man’s eyes bounce over to me. He’s going to ID me, I knew it! Bam just didn’t want me to be nervous coming in. “Don’t look at her. She doesn’t exist.” The man’s eyes snap away at record speed.
“Sorry,” the man sputters. He has to be twice my age. He’s got flecks of gray in his hair coming in on the sides of his ears.
“Bag?” He quickly reaches under the counter and comes up with two of those reusable bags that are packed full of food.
“We’re square,” Bam tells him before taking them off the counter. The second we are out of the store, his free hand is back on the nape of my neck.
“Why did you tell him you were square?” I ask as we walk back toward my house.
“He owed a little debt to the Riders that I took care of for him. In return he let me use his place to get these delivered.” He lifts the two bags in his other hand for effect. “A favor for a favor. It’s not something I do often.”
“You mean you usually don’t get groceries delivered to liquor stores?” I ask, unsure of what he means by not doing it often.
“No. I usually don’t trade favors. You either pay me or…” Bam trails off, not finishing his explanation.
“You can’t leave me in suspense.” I stare up at him. “Or what?”
“They’ll pay. No one wants the or.” The or? What is the or? Then it hits me.
“Ohh!” I nod. “The or.” I run my finger across my throat, being overly dramatic, and stick my tongue out to the side of my mouth. Bam shakes his head.