Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
* * *
I GLANCE OVER AT ALLIE in the passenger seat. She hasn’t said a word since I all but dragged her to my truck and told her to get in. The last thing I expected was for her to show up here. My two worlds collided tonight, and she doesn’t belong anywhere near this side of me.
When I saw her standing there, looking like a goddamn lamb in a lion’s den, I lost it. I’m not a particularly skilled fighter. I don’t win every time. I don’t train like most of the guys I go up against. Lacrosse kept me in top shape, but what makes me good is that I can take a fucking beating, and still manage to get back up. I’ve spent my whole life fighting.
It started as a way to make money for school. My scholarship didn’t pay for much, and I wasn’t going to hit up Lo and Dare for help. I figured it was better than the alternative—also known as selling drugs. I planned on making a good enough chunk of cash to live on for the year, then walking away. But then, Crystal showed up, blowing my plans to shit in true Shepherd fashion.
I pull into the parking lot of the sketchy apartment complex, cutting the engine. Allie frowns, confusion painting her pretty features as she takes in our surroundings.
Wordlessly, I hop out of the truck, and she follows me. I make my way toward the steps where a guy with a 40 wrapped in a paper sack sits, nodding at us as we pass. Once we’re upstairs, I dig my key out of my pocket and unlock the door. I don’t like coming here. I’ve only been here a handful of times, and only when I absolutely have to, but I need Allie to see the real me.
Allie hesitates by the door, arms folded across her chest. I don’t blame her. This place is a fucking sty. The kitchen and living room are combined, with nothing more than a bathroom and a small bedroom connected to a short hallway. The couch has cigarette burns and dark stains in its dingy fabric, along with the blue carpet. The roach-infested kitchen consists of old linoleum and grimy as fuck appliances that are older than I am.
“Say something,” I urge, and she closes the door behind her.
“Where are we?”
I give her a bitter smile. “Home.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “I don’t understand.”
As if on cue, Crystal appears in the hall, her blonde hair a tangled, matted mess, wearing only a raggedy ass tank top and underwear.
“I thought I heard someone,” she says, a dazed smile on her face. She walks over to where I sit on the couch, leaning down to hug me. I don’t move to hug her back. I don’t do anything but stare at Allie, unmoving.
“If I’d known I was having company, I’d have straightened up a little,” she says, noticing Allie’s presence.
I snort. As if all this place needs is straightening up. Allie’s big gray eyes plead with me to fill her in. She looks all wrong standing in this shit hole.
“Crystal, this is Allie. Allie…meet my mom.”
The scared, apprehensive look leaves Allie’s eyes, and in its place is a mixture of anger and contempt.
“Nice to meet—” Crystal starts, walking toward Allie, but Allie stops her with a glare.
“Not interested in exchanging pleasantries. Thanks,” she snaps before turning her attention back to me. “Jess, can you just tell me what’s going on?”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Crystal slurs, moving toward Allie. I jump up off the couch, intercepting Crystal before she can touch a hair on Allie’s head.
“Go to your room.”
“You’re going to let her disrespect your mother like that?”
“Go!”
Crystal jerks back at my tone, sending one last nasty look toward Allie before walking away with her tail between her legs. I pull out my phone, tapping out a quick text to Sullivan. Once I hear the door slam shut, I turn my attention back to Allie.
“This is my life, Allie.” I spread my arms wide, gesturing to the space we’re in. “This is who I am.”
“This isn’t you,” she says vehemently.
I should’ve never let Crystal back into my life. She cried to me about Lo abandoning her like she was a child, which is a joke considering she’s the one who abandoned us when we were actual children. She cried about being homeless. Cried that she had no one and nothing left. She fucking cried about everything. Like an idiot, I took pity on her. Got her this glamorous apartment and agreed to pay her rent if she left Lo alone. Lo had finally broken free. She deserved it.
I thought I could handle it. But you know that kids’ book? If You Give a Mouse a Cookie? That’s Crystal. You give her an inch and she takes a hundred fuckin’ miles. She tried demanding more money, and when I threatened to walk away, she went to Julian, the guy who runs the fighting ring. She borrowed money. A lot of fucking money. And Julian was all too happy to give it to her if it meant he could use it as leverage to keep me fighting.