Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Burn it down?” Morris asks.
I nod. There is nothing more to do here.
Morris walks out to our bikes and starts siphoning some gas and then walks back in the garage and splashes its contents around the living room and Huston’s body before we step out, toss a lit match to the floor, and let the house burn from the inside out.
Chapter 9
Lissie
“I read for him, not to him.”
Cody left—not me, unfortunately.
I ended up walking home that day when I woke in Milo’s bed because Cody refused to pick me up. I knew if I asked Milo, he would take me, but I refuse to ask another man for help.
Cody left twenty dollars on the counter, which usually means I won’t see him for a week. I usually love it when he goes away for his so-called ‘work trips,’ as he likes to call them because I get the house to myself. But the small amount of money he leaves doesn’t last long, and by the third day, the bread I bought the day he left is almost gone.
Right now, my head is pounding. I haven’t been able to leave the couch for the last day, and I was due to read to Milo last night.
I did not show up.
So when I hear a knock at my door, I think it’s someone for Cody, but when the knocking doesn’t stop after a few minutes, the door is kicked in. I’m lying on the couch, the pain way too intense to move to see who it is. I’m sure the death they offer me will be more acceptable than the one my body is currently trying to inflict on me. I close my eyes as I hear footsteps approaching.
“You missed our appointment.”
I open my eyes to find Milo staring down at me, dressed in his leather vest, his dark hair perfectly styled, and his lips pursed. “Do you not know how to answer me?” he asks.
I roll over, my body aching as I do so, and give him my back.
I feel his hand land on the back of my neck, and he mutters something I don’t understand. Then I hear the door shut as he leaves, and I don’t even bother wondering how the door closed if he kicked it in and how much trouble I’ll be in if it is broken.
My eyes are too heavy, and they close automatically.
Darkness.
He’s back.
“Take it.” I look up to see Milo hovering above me, water in one hand and tablets in the other. “Elizabeth,” he warns.
Fuck him and his Elizabeth.
Snatching the tablets from his hand, I swallow them without water. He shakes his head and goes to the door when someone knocks. I smell food instantly. My stomach growls, letting the world know I haven’t eaten.
“Aren’t you supposed to be off running motorcycles with your gang?” I ask as he returns to me. I manage to half sit up on the couch, which I haven’t left for days. He pulls the side table in front of me, then swipes everything off before placing a container of Thai food on the wooden surface and it smells amazing.
“Gang?” Milo shakes his head as he grabs one of the kitchen chairs and drags it over.
“Is that what you think we are?” He opens the lid of the food container and then approaches me. Without asking, he places his hands under me and lifts me easily, then sets me back down so I’m in a sitting position. When someone else sits you up, you don’t have to use as many muscles, and I hate that I appreciate him for doing that.
“I could have moved myself…” Oh God, my equilibrium is so off I have to blink my eyes before I continue, “You didn’t have to touch me.”
“I don’t mind touching you,” he replies, and I know there is another meaning behind it.
“Is that not what you are, a gang?” I ask, changing the subject.
“We don’t run around the streets wearing baggy fucking clothes,” he says.
I laugh, and it hurts.
I stop.
His eyes narrow at me.
“You ride around the streets wearing specific clothing, including those leather cuts you wear. So it’s the same thing.” I shrug. “When was the last time you fucked someone up, or worse, killed them?” I reach for the food and take a bite of the spring roll while he watches.
“Yesterday.” He shows me his knuckles, which are red and angry-looking.
“And why did you do that?” He grabs a spring roll, and I stare as his lips form an O before he takes a bite.
Milo has perfect lips.
Asshole.
“He thought getting me in trouble would be a good idea.” My eyes go wide at his confession.
“For what?”
“A deal gone bad” are the only words he offers.
“Is he alive?” I ask, then shake my head. “No, don’t answer that.”
Milo smirks and sits back. “Would you be disappointed if he was dead?”