Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 183(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 122(@300wpm)
He stiffened at my touch but didn’t pull away. “Do what more often?”
“Laugh.” I smiled at him. “You look loads younger when you laugh.”
“And there’s the brat.” Archangel tried to scowl at me, but he couldn’t hold it any better than I could. “You’re smart, Sonya.” He turned his hand over and gripped my fingers. “You could be anything you want to be. Why are you still hanging around home?”
I shrugged. “Why move away from home? I have everything I love right here. My family. My friends. I work around the clubhouse grounds and garage. You know, cooking and cleaning and shit. I do it because I like taking care of my peeps. Why change that if I’m happy? Besides, I’m doing more work than all the club girls combined. Sure, I don’t fuck the guys, but I earn my keep. I don’t expect to stay in the compound for free just because my dad’s the president. I never have.”
“He just wants to make sure you can survive on your own. You know. Away from the club.”
“Why would I ever need to?” I wrinkled my nose at him. “I’ve seen what the world outside the club is like. And I don’t mean when I was pulling those little pranks I pull in Moore Haven. People are mean at the best of times in the outside world. Inside Salvation’s Bane, or even here at Black Reign, everyone respects each other. Well, except the club girls, and even they have lines they rarely cross. Besides, Dad doesn’t know everything I do. I have some… hobbies.”
“If you mean the clothing and toy drives you do for the local group homes and nursing homes, I know about them.”
I gasped. “Have you been spying on me?” I wasn’t really shocked. In fact, I was surprised Ripper, the intel officer for Salvation’s Bane, hadn’t discovered it sooner. He probably had -- the guy was good -- and just hadn’t said anything.
“I don’t know why you keep it secret, Sonya. Be proud of what you’re doing. Bring more attention to your cause.”
“That kinda takes the point out of it,” I muttered. No. Not many people thought the way I did.
He blinked at me before narrowing his eyes in an adorably confused look. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m not the primary fundraiser for any of those things. I just contribute. Also, if I went around bragging, ‘look what I did,’ then it makes the giving about me showing the people in my world what good things I’m doing. Not about me helping kids and seniors who can’t help themselves.”
“I get that. From what I’ve seen, your usual M.O. is to find out what was raised and match it. What I don’t understand is where the money comes from. Thorn would be raising hell if club money came up missing. Not because he objects to giving charitable donations, but because he’s the fucking president.”
“Surely you know I’d never steal anything from anyone. Especially not from my dad’s club.” Now he was just pissing me off.
“Of course I know you’d never steal from your club.” OK. Maybe he got to live a while longer. “Which is why I can’t figure out where your money is coming from. You don’t have a job or money of your own.”
Or not.
“Ah. I see.” I grinned. Because, finally, I did see. “This has less to do with me figuring out my path in life than it is about Dad wanting to know where I’m getting my funds. Which means Ripper did rat me out.”
“I didn’t say your dad was only interested in where you get funds. I didn’t even say he was curious.”
I sighed. “You didn’t have to, Archangel. If he doesn’t know what I do to get money, then he wants to know. He should have come out and asked me.”
“Can’t speak to that, but he does want me to help you to find, as you say, your path in life.”
“If I tell you what I do, will you call this whole thing off? I’ll go back home and stay out of trouble. As long as I can anyway.”
“I’ll take it to your dad. Ultimately, it’s your decision. I can’t force you to do anything. But I don’t think you’ll outright defy your father.”
Shit. He was right. “Look, I got an Only Fans page, all right?”
“What?” He snapped out the question, his eyes going comedically wide. I had to fight to keep from laughing. The look on his face was priceless. Like if he had mind bleach, he’d use it.
“I sell pictures of my feet, Angel. Where did your mind go?” I shrugged like it was all no big deal. “Ask Ripper. He caught me when I first set it up. He said the only reason he didn’t tell Dad was because there was no harm in showing my feet, but any breach of his trust in me would not only result in him ratting me out, but in my Internet and phone privileges being taken away. Since he was the tech guy, he could pull off the restrictions with ease and good luck telling Dad why Ripper had grounded me when I complained. It was quite diabolical.”