Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
I yank my bloodied scrubs off and throw them in the laundry bin before I pull on my jeans and a hoodie. I grab my handbag and check my phone, which has three missed calls from my sister. I swear she doesn’t understand the concept of twelve-hour shifts. I send her a quick text saying that I’ll call her in the morning. I’m almost out the hospital doors. I can practically hear little angels singing as I catch a glimpse of the outside world. I’m so close.
“Ria!”
At the sound of my name, I freeze. Damn it. I turn around and meet the smiling face of my boyfriend, Euan. He has that perfect smile coupled with wavy blond hair and bright blue eyes.
Euan is a surgery resident. His father is the Chief of Surgery here at the University hospital. Let’s just say, he’s guaranteed a good job when he completes his residency. He is the typical American ideal of perfection. He’s everything a girl is told she should want in a man: driven, intelligent, attractive and kind to me. I’ve worked for years to get where I am, and, I guess, I want a certain life. Euan fulfills that vision.
That may not sound romantic, but I don’t believe in fairy tales. Euan may not set me on fire, but there are more important things in life than passion. Life is about goals, and I didn’t travel halfway around the world to find passion. I did it to be the best, to achieve my dreams, and create the life I’ve always wanted.
I smile wearily. He looks so perfectly put together- even after a twelve-hour shift he looks immaculate, and, well…I don’t. My hair is greasy and falling out of a messy bun. I have suitcases under my eyes right now, never mind bags, and I probably have various bodily fluids all over me. Nice.
Regardless of how disgusting I must look, he leans in and places a chaste kiss on my lips. “How was your shift?” he asks.
“Busy,” I reply in a clipped tone.
I really don’t want to talk right now. My bed is calling my name.
Luckily, he seems to get the message.
“Well, I’ll let you go, but we’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”
“Yeah, of course.” I smile and nod. “I’ll text you when I wake up.”
He quickly kisses my cheek again and winks before walking away.
At two in the morning, I finally get home. I jump in the shower and wash all the blood and death from my skin.
My job is hard, but the longer I do it the more I learn that I have to let go of each day before moving on to the next. This is my routine: to cleanse myself of the day’s events.
The scalding hot water soothes my aching muscles and clears my mind.
I’m starving, but the prospect of making any real food is just not appealing. I quickly eat a cereal bar in preparation for the twelve-hour hibernation I plan to now have. I’m on shift again tonight, and if Friday nights are bad, then Saturday nights are hell.
I’m unconscious as soon as my head hits the pillow.
“He’s not gonna pay, Jude,” Richard argues.
I twist in my chair, drumming my fingers over the wooden desk. “Oh, no. He’ll pay. No one doesn’t pay me.” I laugh, glancing Richard over.
He’s thick, nothing but a muscle head, and he’s dumb as shit, but I don’t need brains in my lackeys; I need brute strength and looks that will make people piss their pants. Richard is just that—a complete mongoloid. It’s a family business I run. It has to be. Money, murder, and lies are all part of this business, and my family has been at it for going on three generations.
I suck in a quick breath. “You’ll make sure he pays, right?”
His mouth flips into a devious, anticipatory grin. “Yeah, of course.”
“He’s a dumb college kid, he most likely thinks he knows statistics and thought he’d outsmarted me. Dumbass,” I mumble. “He won’t have the money. Just take something for collateral. Rough him up, and don’t give him more than three days to get me my money.” I frown. “But make sure you’re smart about it.”
“I’m not a fucking idiot. Which car do you want me to take?”
“Go down to David’s, he’ll have a car for you. There’ll be instructions inside the console about where to trade out cars in Tennessee, okay?”
The phone rings and he nods, then leaves. I raise the receiver to my ear. “Go ahead, partner.”
“This is Rammer Jammer. First half bet on the underdog. Two dimes. Bottom five.”
“First half bet on the underdog worth two dimes on the bottom five?” I repeat back.
“Yep.”
I hang up and grab the smoldering cigarette from the ashtray, inhaling a large cloud of smoke as I quickly scribble the bet in red ink over my legal pad. This game is sure to pay out a shitload of cash, and I can’t help but smile as I glance over the bets I’ve taken today. Politicians, preachers, cops: they’re all my clients, and as long as they pay, there’s not a problem. I’m a businessman and I take my job very seriously.