Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I couldn’t stand my mother either, but there was this little piece of my heart that would always belong to her. Some obligatory piece that thought one day she’d turn herself around, and I could have a mother again.
“My mom is dead, too,” she admitted. “She died when I was a kid. It was an unsolved murder case. My dad was a suspect for a while. Obviously, he’s a shade promiscuous, having seven children with seven different women. They questioned him relentlessly. The circus was held up for a couple weeks until they cleared him.
“That’s…” I shook my head. “Wow.”
She looked kind of sick for a second as if she was going to explain more of the story, but the door to the bar crashed open and a couple of drunk college students from the university in town walked in.
I watched them come, knowing they were going to interrupt.
“Oh, boy,” Simi grumbled.
“You’ve seen them?” I wondered.
“Seen and kicked out of the circus tonight,” she admitted. “They were drunk as skunks and being disorderly and disruptive of the show tonight. Keene kicked them out because they kept yelling slurs at me during my act.”
“What kinds of slurs?” I pushed, feeling myself tensing the closer they got.
“The kind of which I don’t want to repeat, ever,” she murmured as she took a large sip of the glass the bartender sat down in front of her.
I waited and watched, wondering if I could push her to tell me, but the set of her shoulders and the way she was staring at nothing but her drink now told me that she wasn’t willing to be pushed on the subject. Not at all.
Which only intrigued me more.
I tugged on my coat collar, realizing that it’d gotten hotter than hell in here in the last five minutes or so. When I looked down, I realized that I was once again still wearing the gloves that I always wore when I was outside.
Not because I needed to hide my hands or anything, but more purely because I was a little bitch when it came to the cold weather.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in, boys,” the drunk drawled.
The apparent “leader” of the group walked toward us with a swagger, and I felt myself tensing as the three men who’d walked in the door behind him all gathered around and fanned out behind him. They were covering his back, obviously used to the guy’s confrontational ways.
I eyed all four of them, finally settling on the leader.
He was tall but not as tall as me, and he looked as if he was an athlete. But that didn’t change the fact that he was obviously still growing. Meanwhile, I’d been my full six foot four height, two hundred and forty-some-odd pounds weight since I was nineteen.
I’d grown into my body, knew how to use it, and could likely take at least two of them down without a single punch landing on my person.
But I wouldn’t be doing that with Simi on the other side of me.
I was all for a brawl, but I wasn’t for a brawl when it would put someone innocent in danger.
I did slip off my gloves, though, hearing Simi’s inhaled breath as I laid them on the bar top in front of me.
The next thing to go was my jacket because there was no way in hell I was hindering my movements when it came to protecting her.
That inhaled breath turned into a wheeze, but my gaze stayed on the college boys, who were now simmering at the slight of us ignoring them.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” I asked dryly as I laid my coat down on the bar next to our drinks.
“Not you,” he snapped. “Her.”
He pointed, and I felt Simi stiffen.
“No pointing,” she snapped.
I would’ve asked why had the situation not been deteriorating.
“I can point at you if I fuckin’ want to, cunt,” he hissed, pushing forward.
That’s when I chose to stand up.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “Please find a seat and let whatever you think is going on here go.”
“I think what’s going on here is she had us escorted out of the goddamn circus,” he said. “Something I paid good money to attend.”
“From what I understand,” I said with a drawl, “you were escorted out because you were drunk and disorderly while also cursing in front of children.”
The children were a guess on my part, but I assumed I was right despite not knowing.
“I can cuss any goddamn where I want to,” he hissed, spittle coating his chin. “I’m a goddamn American. I can cuss. I can yell. I can verbally abuse you. They can’t kick me out for utilizing my Second Amendment rights!”
“Actually,” Simi replied helpfully, “the Second Amendment is the right to bear arms. The First Amendment is the one you’re looking for.”