Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
I. Am. Fucked.
“No,” she gasps, pulling away. “No, I can’t do this.”
What? “Why?” I gasp, breathless.
“Because it’s wrong,” she grates, shoving me back. “Because you’re—”
“I’m what?” Old?
“You!” she yells, high-pitched, laughing, hurrying into her wetsuit. “You’re you, Brad, and I’m just me.” Getting her arms into the sleeves, she squirms around, straightening the material. “Young, stupid, and naïve.” She walks away, leaving me standing dumbstruck, my lips sore, as she feels around behind her for the zip, muttering her frustration. “This is stupid. The front was easier.”
I’m . . . me.
Hookers. Cocaine. A killer.
The American.
Thirty-five.
A heartbreaker.
Old.
I sigh, exhausted by myself, and approach her, resting my hands on her shoulders. She stills. “Let me.” I reach for the pull and tug it up halfway before taking her hand and leading it to the fastener so she can do it herself, hiding the bare skin of her back from me. It’s for the best. “You’ll get the hang of it.”
And I hope I get the hang of resistance too. It’s not my place to teach her . . . anything. Not to jet ski, not to . . . what? Fuck? “Be careful on the water.” I pass her and leave, keeping my eyes off Leon, who’s waiting outside, afraid he might see the threat in my eyes. Keep your hands off her. But I know a young lad like Leon is the best option for Pearl.
And undoubtedly for me too.
I make my way to the end of the jetty, not now bothered for the water. I can see James and Danny in the distance, The Brit and The Enigma riding at each other, spinning, spraying. Being total fucking kids. I need that too. Respite from—
Fuck . . . me.
Respite from the trials and tribulations of a woman.
I lower to the wood and hang my legs off the end, lighting up, squinting at the sunlight bouncing off the water as I breathe in steadily. I’m all good. Thinking reasonably. I’m helped along the path of rationality when my cell rings.
“Allison.” I say her name on the exhale of smoke, nipping at a flake of tobacco on my lip and flicking it away.
“You stood me up.”
“Something came up.” I watch as James races toward me, standing, his conviction obvious. I don’t move. I’m a sitting duck. He turns at the last minute, sending a fan of water into the air, drenching me. “You fucker,” I mutter, shaking the wet from my hair.
Allison laughs down the line. “Charming.”
“Not you.” I hold up my smoke. The flame’s been extinguished. If only. And then the soggy stick slowly starts to droop, flopping down. I laugh at the irony. Yeah. If only. “You free later?” I ask.
“Depends. Are you going to show up this time?”
“Yeah, I’ll show up.”
“Good. I missed you.”
I frown. She missed me while I fucked a girl in her place, and then kept her in my bed. All fucking night. Not missing Allison. “Eight o’clock. Four Seasons.” I hang up and drop my useless cigarette into the sea as James chugs past, now sitting in the seat.
“Come on, Brad.” His eyes say things his mouth never will. He knows. Danny knows. “Come out on the water.”
I nod, raking a hand through my wet hair. “I thought you’d have marched Beau home.”
He laughs. “How’s your back?” he asks, reminding me that no one tells Beau what to do. Or Rose, these days. Somehow, I think that might change imminently.
I roll my shoulders and get a sharp reminder of Pearl’s fingernails scraping at my flesh. “Letting her enjoy her freedom before lockdown?”
He smirks. “She knows it’s coming.”
“Did you tell her?”
His eyebrows rise, and he pulls his shades down from his head, covering his eyes. He doesn’t need to answer. Of course he didn’t tell her. Beau’s an ex-cop, has retained that sixth sense, and we all need to remember that. James rarely needs to tell her trouble’s afoot. She just knows. “Come on.” He races away, and Danny falls into the stream behind him, both heading out of the bay area. That’s what I need. Chaos on the water instead of in my head. Danger on the waves. The taste of salt on my tongue to rid the lingering taste of Pearl’s pussy, the ear-piercing roar of the engine drowning out my thoughts and her moans. The smell of the ocean instead of lavender.
And then a good fuck with Allison. And it would be really fucking handy if Otto came up with some names so I can put a bullet in someone. That should sort me out. “And these are a few of my favorite things,” I sing to myself as I walk back up the jetty, slowing to a stop when I see Leon sitting on a jet ski, Pearl behind him, pushed close into his back. She’s laughing. Leon looks like a pig in shit. I divert my eyes to the wood beneath my bare feet. Out of sight, out of mind. But not out of earshot.