Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Be very fuckin’ careful,” I warn.
“Or what? You’ll get me in the shit too? I have the cash; if that’s what they want, that’s what I’ll give to them. Saskia is my best friend, do you understand, my best friend in the whole wide world. That might not mean much to you, but it’s everything to me now.” She looks back to Enzo. “I will pay to get her out. It’s up to you if you trust me or not.”
The two of them lock eyes for what seems like forever, and then he finally mutters, “Give you twelve hours to get the cash to my guy, if I find out you don’t, I will come after you, Chantelle. I know everything about you, and I will make you wish you were never fuckin’ born.”
She stares at him, then nods. “Fair deal. Give me the details of your guy, and I’ll have the cash delivered. Now, where in the hell is Saskia?”
The stupid fuck gives us the details of the men chasing him for cash, and then the details of who he wants the cash delivered to.
When we step out the door of the prison, I fall in step beside Chantelle. “You’re not givin’ him the cash, are you?”
“Oh, hell no,” she says, flicking her hair. “Enzo doesn’t scare me. He’s stupid. I knew he was stupid. It worked. You getting angry at me made it even better because he believed I was serious. Now, let’s go get my girl back. We’ll deal with him later.”
Yeah.
I think I fucking like Saskia’s best friend, too.
~25~
SASKIA
Everything hurts.
I don’t say that lightly.
It’s been one day, which, in the scheme of things isn’t a long time at all, but to me, it feels like an eternity. One whole day of sitting down here, chained up, in agony, unable to stop the pain and wondering when the next blow is going to come. No food. No water. I’m tired, but there is no way I’d dare shut my eyes. The moment I do, I’m scared of what will happen. So, I sit here, trying to think away the pain, and praying someone finds me soon.
They have to know by now.
They have to.
Chantelle would have figured it out, and she would have gone to them, right?
She’d be smart enough to do that, wouldn’t she? God, I pray that she would, but I couldn’t blame her if she didn’t. I mean, I did sit there and tell her I never wanted to see Mason or that club again. But surely, in times like this, she would think they’re the only people who might know where I am.
Maybe she went to Enzo.
I hope not, because that would get me in more trouble if he decided to cause a scene.
I wonder if the club still has Yolanda, and I wonder what they’re doing to her.
Whatever it is, I hope it hurts.
I hate to say that about my own sister, but the fact of it all is, she doesn’t care about me, not even a little. We might be two halves of one egg, but we’re nothing alike. She’s missing something. Maybe I got the emotional part of the egg, the one that cares and is kind to others, and she got the empty shell, the emotionless pit, the broken part. Because why else could someone be so cruel to someone? Especially when that someone is family.
Her twin sister.
I might dislike her, but I would have never gone out of my way to hurt her or get her into trouble.
Not ever.
My heart aches. It aches because outside of Chantelle, I suddenly feel like there isn’t a single person out there who truly cares for me anymore, and that’s an empty, rather lonely feeling.
I’m here, chained up, hurt, and so incredibly alone.
So, so alone.
That hurts the most.
The door opens, and I jerk my head up, my heart racing, my body going on instant alert. Blondie walks in, alone this time. He stares at me on the ground and narrows his eyes. “Your little boyfriend has said he’ll have the cash, and more, to me in twelve hours, so I’m going to keep you alive until then. Usually, I wouldn’t allow this, but I need the cash so he gets to stay alive, and you, for twelve hours more. When I get what’s owed to me, I’m going to put a bullet in his skull when he’s let out of prison, but he doesn’t know that, and you’re never going to get the chance to tell him, because once the cash is in my hands, a bullet is going into your brain, too.”
I didn’t know what I’d expect the day I was told I’m going to die.
You hear it in the movies—people have cancer, or an illness, and they get told that heart wrenching news—but I never thought I would hear the words.