Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88701 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I say. Maybe a good night fuck is what I need to help me sleep. “I’ll text you when I’m on my way.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
I pocket my cell and exit the office just in time to see my brother grab his jacket. He doesn’t even acknowledge me with a head nod. Just walks toward the exit. I hear the back door open and close, and I start to wipe down the bar. It’s the last thing I have to do before I can get out of here. But the front door opens, getting my attention, and I frown when I realize that he didn’t lock it before he left. We always exit out the back since that’s where we park. The alley isn’t the safest place this late at night. Hell, nowhere in this town is safe this time of night. Why chance it?
I’m thinking of ways I can beat his ass for his lack of responsibility when I look up to see a redhead enter the bar with a smile on her face and an oversized Louis Vuitton on her shoulder. She’s harmless. “Hey, girl,” Jasmine greets me.
“Hey.” I smile at her, but it drops the second I catch sight of Bones entering behind her.
Cross and I don’t typically talk or share life experiences when we’re together. We definitely don’t discuss the other Kings. My brother has said some stuff in the past regarding Bones—he runs with the Mafia or some shit like that. Honestly, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if it was true. Cross had mentioned Bones was working at Kingdom tonight, so why is he here?
“What’s up?” I ask as she plops down across from me at the bar. Bones takes the seat next to her, not saying a word. I look away from him and his blue eyes. The guy is as intimidating as he is rich.
“Remember the first time you met me?” she asks, avoiding my question.
“Yeah.” I draw out the single word.
A year ago
I’m standing behind the bar; it’s a Friday night and packed. There’s some convention in town, so the bar is busier than usual. I’m having problems keeping up with the large crowd. A man walks up and slaps down a twenty, rambling off what he wants.
“Excuse me?” I yell over the music and turn my face to give him my ear when my eyes land on a woman sitting at the end of the bar with a man. She’s laughing at something he said while looking down at her full drink I had just served her. Reaching out, she places her hand on his shoulder and leans in, speaking into his ear. He nods a few times, and she gets up, heading to the bathroom.
“Did you get that?” the guy yells in my ear.
I pull away, holding up a finger to him when I see the guy now sitting alone, looking around nervously.
“Miss?” the guy calls out again, trying to get my attention, but I ignore him. My eyes remain focused on the other man. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his fist. He takes another quick look around before dropping a pill into her drink. Picking up the glass, he swirls it around to dissolve the evidence and then quickly sets it back down.
I rush over to my brother, who stands a few feet from me. “Call the police,” I say into his ear.
“What?” He turns to face me.
“Do it now. Tell them a guy just tried to drug a woman.” Before he can respond, I run out from behind the bar and rush to the bathroom, shoving customers out of my way.
I enter the women’s restroom and come to a stop when I see the woman standing at the sink fixing her lipstick. “I need to talk to you.”
“You saved my life.” Jasmine gives me a smile, interrupting the memory.
I shuffle from foot to foot uncomfortably, not wanting to rehash this conversation, especially in front of Bones. “I wouldn’t go that far …”
“I would. The cops arresting that guy led to them uncovering a sex trafficking ring. You saved me.”
My face heats up, turning red. I don’t do well with compliments.
“Anyway,” she goes on. “I tried to repay you …”
I snort at that statement. “The next day, you showed up with a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.” A woman I had only met the night before bought me a car. I thought she was out of her mind. I still think that.
“I told you I’d pay for the tag and insurance …”
“I’m not accepting it,” I remind her. She does this often. She still has it in her garage. As though I’m just going to call her up one day and say hey, you know that Audi R8 Spyder you bought me? Yeah, I’ll take that now.