Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
“I see you two finally made it.” The deep voice those words belonged to were drunken and familiar.
I turned my head and spotted Joren stumbling up the wooden stairs toward us and wrinkled my nose before I could remember to play nice. Unfortunately, he’d been looking right at me, so he hadn’t missed my disgust and glared right back.
It had been several months since I started working at Pride of Kings, and Joren and I still hadn’t warmed up to each other. In fact, things had become even more tense since I started dating his boy. Rowdy tried to keep out of it and not take sides, but I could tell he was becoming annoyed with us both since neither Joren nor I had no cause to dislike each other.
Golden was now speaking full sentences to me on a regular basis, but Joren, who thought the sun rose and set on his bald head, couldn’t be bothered.
I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t stand his ass, and the feeling was mutual, so we stayed out of each other’s way.
“It ain’t even noon yet,” Rowdy snapped from beside me. “How the hell you drunk already, and the party just started two hours ago?”
Good question.
Joren waved him off, which made him lose his balance, sending him tipping forward. He would have fallen on me if not for Rowdy’s quick reflexes. He lifted me out of the way, leaving Joren to collapse on the blue and white striped couch, where he ended up lying face down and snoring seconds later.
“Dumb ass,” Rowdy spat at his friend’s unconscious form.
Usually, I would concur, but I was starting to suspect that there was more to Joren’s drinking. Whatever it was, judging by Rowdy’s reaction, I’d also guessed that Joren hadn’t shared his woes with his friends.
I still didn’t like his ass, but I could empathize, which was more kindness than he’d ever shown me. Joren hadn’t been cruel necessarily, just indifferent. I couldn’t understand why it grated on me.
Nevertheless, I knew what it was like to walk through hell and feel like there was no one or nothing to turn to except your own self-destruction.
The very reason I’d been reckless enough to follow an anonymous note into this lion’s den. I’d left everything behind to find the Kings, and I still didn’t know why. I stopped caring months ago, and I wasn’t the only one.
I haven’t heard from Unrequited since their warning.
“I can keep an eye on him if you want,” I volunteered.
The last two days had taught me that it wouldn’t be long before my boyfriend’s attention would be split between keeping a controlling eye on me and the adoring sycophants who desperately wanted his attention.
It took him even less time to hunt me down after I grew tired of watching them dick-ride and did my own thing. Why not save him the trouble and stay where Rowdy knew he could find me later?
“Hell nah. Where the fuck is Jada?” he asked no one in particular.
My heart dropped, and my ears started ringing at the sound of that familiar name.
Jada.
Could this be the same girl from the photo? Could Jada be Unrequited? I’d already figured out that the sender had to be someone who knew the Kings personally—someone who knew all their secrets. Who better than the girl who’d been their centerpiece for so long?
“I’m here,” a lilting voice purred a moment later.
I followed the sound, something in my chest tugging me toward it until my eyes landed on the statuesque beauty strutting toward us in gold heels.
The sexy red halter one-piece she wore was cut out on the sides to show off her flat belly and golden skin tone. The curly copper hair I remembered from the photo was now bone straight, not a strand out of place, making it clear the bathing suit was for show only.
After our hair had been freshly pressed, sweat, water, or moisture of any kind was an absolute no-no for Black women.
The humidity in the south was so bad that I didn’t even bother during the summer months, preferring to wear my hair naturally or protected by braids. I’d tried wearing extensions once but hadn’t lasted more than a week before cutting them out.
“What’s the problem, Owen?” she asked as she stopped in front of us.
Jealousy as green as Rowdy’s eyes reared its ugly head at the casual way she stood so close to him and uttered the name his mother had given him. The fact that Rowdy hadn’t corrected her as he was known to do only fed the monster awakening inside of me. Not even his friends called him Owen, preferring O or Rowdy instead.
I took a deep breath, reminding myself that Jada had known him longer than I had even existed. A very long time. Probably years before he’d earned his moniker.