Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Which is?”
“I want equality. I’m not going to settle for anything less. Not again. Not ever.”
I sighed. “Fine, Faye. Whatever you say. We’ll talk about it when we get home.”
Home? Did I just say that?
“Yes, we will.”
Her smile told me she’d noticed, too.
I waited until Topaz was in before I made my exit. Faye was helping her out with preparations for the big birthday celebration and I strode through the bar with as little fanfare as possible. I nearly made it to the door before I was collared.
“Going out?” Faye asked, like it wasn’t fucking obvious.
“I’m meeting a supplier, negotiating next quarter’s prices.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Don’t you think I should be involved?”
I didn’t have time for her bloody outrage, so I shifted to cunt mode, easily and effortlessly. “Organise it for your week, Faye, if you want to play the big I am. This is my week, remember?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she snapped, but it did the job, she skulked off to Topaz with a scowl and the two of them began their gossiping. I didn’t even care. I had bigger fish to fry.
***
The bookshop was pissing heaving with Vincent Blackthorne fangirls. More hairspray and lipstick than you could shake a fucking stick at. It drove me to fucking insanity, just being in the pissing queue.
I’m so excited! Oh my God, it’s really him! I love his books, love, love, love them! I can’t believe he’s really here!
Idiots. Gullible, naïve, horny fucking idiots.
It gave me chance to scope out the sack of shit. He was much bigger than I’d anticipated, and older. Much older. The cunt had to be pushing fifty, and his slicked-back hair was peppered with grey. He had a ridiculous little beard, supposedly to look artistic, and his eyes were hungry for tight little pussy. He held onto adoring hands for far too long, practically slavering as his groupies gushed about his trashy fucking novels.
I could hardly bear to watch, but the alternative was worse, huge glossy pictures of that fucking cover, of Faye’s tear-streaked face staring out at me. It fuelled the flames, alright.
Vincent showed me little interest since I was male. He flipped open a paperback and grunted a poor excuse of a welcome.
“Who is this for?” he said, and his accent was thick and overdone and I could have choked the slimy twat right then.
“Make it out to Faye,” I snarled. “You can make it a goodbye note considering you’ll never see her again, you seedy fucking cunt.”
His eyes glinted as he stared up at me and realisation kicked in. “Andy Morgan, club owner extraordinaire. The man who should’ve meant something.” He laughed like a twat. “I’ve been wondering when we should meet.” He put down his pen and crossed his arms. “There will be no goodbye note. My magpie belongs with me, there are no goodbyes for a love like ours.”
I shrugged my shoulders, scouting a look over my shoulder for signs of security. “I’m glad you don’t want to do this the easy way,” I said, then landed a fist straight to the cunt’s jaw. It made one hell of a crack and he went flying, toppling from his little plastic chair and sprawling straight amongst his nasty fucking paperbacks. The queue jumped into life, springing back from the fracas with shrill little squeals, and people were screaming for staff, for security, for the fucking police. My seconds were numbered, but I didn’t give a fuck. I jabbed a finger across the table as he stumbled around on all fours, giving him everything I had to fucking give him.
“This is your final warning, you perverted cunt. You ever come near Faye again and I swear to fucking God you’ll regret the day you ever fucking met her.”
“I will never regret meeting her,” he grunted. “And I know that she’ll regret meeting me even less.”
“Fuck off,” I spat. “I think you’ll find Faye’s no longer the doting little slave girl you moulded her into.”
“I didn’t mould her.” He grinned and I hated him even fucking more, if that was humanly fucking possible. “She wanted it. She likes it. She fucking loves it.” He pressed his fingers to his jaw. “She fucking loves me.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, old man. She left you, remember? She walked away from your seedy little games and your seedy little life. Ciao, tosser.”
“A misunderstanding,” he scoffed. “She’ll understand, once we have a moment to connect.”
“There’ll be no fucking moment. Trust me, Vince, you want to be getting back on that fucking plane before I have reason to seek out your seedy cunting face again. Next time I’ll make sure there are no fucking witnesses.”
“You do not understand a love like ours,” he smirked, and I was sick of hearing it, so fucking sick to death of it.
“I understand just fucking fine. You’re a cunt. She’s over it. Fly home, forget about her. Find some other trusting cunt to stick needles into.”