Preppy: The Life and Death of Samuel Clearwater, Part Two Read Online T.M. Frazier (King #6)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, Drama, Erotic, Funny, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: King Series by T.M. Frazier
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
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I’d told the truth when I told King I wasn’t looking at porn. My dick hadn’t exactly gotten the memo that I was alive just yet, but I had hopes for the fucker or else it was just a huge useless dead thing hanging between my legs about 60 years too fucking soon.

Glaring back at me from the computer screen was shiny black hair and dark almost black eyes. In her profile picture she was standing on dark sand behind grassy dunes, nothing like the beaches in the Logan’s Beach area. It was a candid shot. She wasn’t looking at the camera, instead she was looking off in the distance, the shadow of whoever took the picture was overlapping part of her face and immediately I hated whoever that motherfucker was who took the picture. Guy or girl. Maybe because it was obstructing me of a full view of her face or maybe it was because she looked so unguarded and I hated anyone who wasn’t me who’d gotten to see her that way.

She didn’t post that often. The sporadic pictures that were on her timeline were all dated several months apart.

I clicked on the ABOUT info section of her page.

“Come the fuck on!” King yelled out and thank God he was at the garage or my head would be swimming with the sound of his deep bellowing voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ you two!” I shouted back. Before I shutdown the computer I might have made Bear and King wait forty seconds more so I could hack into Dre’s Facebook account and updated her relationship status.

To married.

I wasn’t sure why the fuck I did it, but I was happy as fuck that I did. And when I walked out the front door and headed toward the garage to meet Bear and King it was with a big genuine fucking smile plastered all over my fucking face.

PREPPY

“God, I’ve fucking missed you, you’re so fucking beautiful,” I cooed, like I was talking to an infant. I lifted the triangle of broken mirror to eye level so I could get a more up close and personal look at the perfect lines of white powder, separated in picturesque rows on top of the glass. “Fuck, I think I’m tearing up... it’s been too fucking long, but that’s alright, we’re gonna fix that, right now. We’re gonna fix it so fucking good, baby.”

“You gonna snort that shit or fuck it?” Bear asked and both he and King laughed reminding me that there were two others in King’s studio besides me and the blow.

Bear was sitting on the floor with one leg pulled up so he could rest his elbow across it, his back against a bank of drawers that opened to one of King’s many toolboxes. King sat on a rolling stool with his elbow propped up against a built in counter space set back in the wall, a beer to his lips. My blow and I were taking up space on the middle cushion of the black leather couch meant to be a waiting area for King’s tattoo clients.

The studio was all brand new. Something King had put in when he rebuilt the garage and the garage apartment. It was small, but it was clean, and all the equipment was state of the art. A custom neon sign hung over the door on the inside. It was a skull wearing a crown and a bow tie. KING’S TATTOO that blinked from green to blue to red. With all the lights off inside the wall color change, reflecting a slightly different hue with every switch of the sign.

King had never needed to keep up the tattoo business, the money he made permanently marking the skin of bikers and spring breakers was only a fraction of what we made with the Granny Growhouses plus the other shit we always had our hands in. But as I looked around at the framed pictures of the work that King had recently done, I knew that he kept it up because it was a part of him.

The same way I was gonna fuck up some blow. Because it was a part of me. Or at least, it was gonna be.

“Come to Daddy,” I said. I held the rolled up bill to my nose and closed one nostril, leaning over I snorted up every last bit of the cocaine goodness. I sat back up, sniffling to make sure every last bit of white powdered goodness was as far up in my fucking brain as possible. I wiped my nose and it hit me harder than I ever remember it hitting.

The high was fucking incredible.

I felt invincible as Bear took the bill from my hand and snorted his own line. He passed it to King who shook his head and held up the joint he was smoking.


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