Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
“Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s only seven, babe. Your brother’s office isn’t even open yet,” Furi argued, trying to get off the couch.
“No excuses. I’m going to call my brother on my lunch break and he better tell me that you called.” Doug was pulling on his boots.
“Will you at least have some coffee with me before you leave?” Furi pouted, immediately feeling silly for it.
“Dude. You’re way too tatted up to ever make that face.” Doug laughed. He bent over and pressed a kiss to Furi’s forehead. “I will not have a cup of your nasty coffee. I will however, take you to breakfast and drink some real coffee with you.”
Furi felt better already. He stood, wrapped his arms around Doug, and whispered, “Thank you for last night. I needed it.”
“I know. Now go get dressed.” Doug popped him on the shoulder.
Furi was in the bathroom brushing his teeth when Doug barged into the tiny space almost knocking him over.
“Furious! Have you looked at your cell yet?” Doug’s hazel eyes were wide as he spoke.
“No. It’s dead. Why? What is it?” Furi’s stomach dropped at the expression on Doug’s face.
Oh hell. What is it now?
“Mack sent a group text two hours ago. Someone was killed outside the studio last night and he wants everyone to come in at nine for a meeting, and no matter what, no one is to talk to the cops.”
“Holy Fuck! Who the hell was killed?” Furi asked, toothpaste dripping down his chin.
“He didn’t say.”
“Call him.”
“I did. And I called his assistant. Both went straight to voicemail.”
“Shit,” Furi whispered, his mind racing a mile-a-minute, shocked that someone from their little production company would be killed.
“Hurry up, let’s get going.” Doug moved quickly through Furi’s small place, grabbing his clothes, looking as distraught as Furi felt.
Ten minutes later they were out the door and in Doug’s car, speeding to Peachtree City.
“I can’t believe this,” Doug said as he turned into the crowded parking lot, his eyes scanning each of the vehicles.
Doug was most likely doing the same thing Furi was. Checking the cars to see whose was missing. There were several, but they couldn’t conclude anything, since they were an hour early for the meeting. Furi saw several reporters recording what must be the crime scene. There were still a few police cars parked on the far side of the lot, and yellow tape blocking off the entrance to the back alley. When a news anchor saw them, he waved to his cameraman and ran over to them. Doug pulled Furi’s arm and hurried him the last few feet to the door and pushed him inside.
“What?” Furi looked at him.
“You don’t need to be on television right now.” Doug gave him a look that said ‘think about it.’
Furi just nodded and ran his hands over his face in frustration. It really didn’t matter now. He was having Patrick served with divorce papers this week. The inevitable couldn't be avoided any longer.
Furi and Doug made their way down the corridor and slowed when they passed a room where a few of the girls were talking in hushed tones. Doug backed up and peered inside. “Hey, what’s going on girls? You look like you know something,” Doug said as he approached their tight circle.
Furi stood at the door, knowing he wasn’t real popular with the girls right now. The women stopped talking and eyed both of them with disdain.
“Fuck off, Doug.” Sasha stepped in front of the girls like she was their spokeswoman.
Doug’s head snapped back at the venom in her tone. He turned his lip up at her. “Been there. Done that, Sasha.”
It appeared they took offense to Doug’s statement and Furi raced in to grab his friend from the extremely angry mob. Furi wondered if it was one of the female entertainers who was killed. That might explain why the girls were all wound up.
“Sasha, who was killed?” Furi asked as calmly as he could. He’d used that same tone when he tried to talk his husband out of his rages.
“How the hell should we know, fag? We’re waiting just like everyone else.” Sasha didn’t wait for Furi’s shock to register before she’d turned her back to him.
“You little slut.” Doug bristled.
“Hey, hey. Let it go, Doug.” Furi pulled on Doug’s shoulder, stopping his tirade, as the women began to really turn up the insults. “Let’s go. This is pointless. Damn you’d think we were the killers, the way they’re acting.”
“Maybe you are,” Angelica sneered. “Do you have an alibi for last night, Furious?”
Furi’s face morphed into a deep frown, confused. What the hell had Furious ever done to these women? Damn, he’d never even had a real conversation with any of them. His refusal to fuck them wasn't reason to act so hurtful toward him. He’d always been respectful to all the entertainers. Furi didn’t think he was better than anyone else there. Sure, Mack threw money at him left and right, but that’s only because he was the one performer who had never been in a partnered scene. Furi guaranteed as soon as he agreed to one, he’d be yesterday’s news.