Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
When I’m done, I breeze into Junior’s room like I own the place and open his drawers until I find his t-shirts. He isn’t around—I hear him talking on his phone downstairs. He only has a drawerful of clean white V-necks—not a single color or graphic tee to be found. I grab one, then head into the guest bathroom where I take a shower.
I make it long and steamy. There’s no razor, but there’s soap and shampoo, so I wash up and then just stand there under the stream of water, like I can wash the last twenty-four hours off me.
Except it’s not long before I fall into thinking about the amazing sex we just had. It was hot and fantasy-fulfilling, but also more.
He called me beautiful.
He rolled with my breakdown—held me, even.
Some of my sourness drops away. Yes, Junior is infuriating. He’s holding me prisoner here. He took unforgivable liberties with my life when he decided I’d be the best person for this job.
But he’s not all bad. He can’t be. He loves his brother. He loves his mom.
He’s a cold-blooded killer, the voice in my head warns.
True. He practically admitted to it. I don’t make a habit out of offing the innocent. Maybe not, but the guilty? I’m sure he serves them justice in many horrible ways.
He fixed my car, pushover me argues. He held me when I cried.
He fucks like a demon.
Okay, that is not a good enough reason.
I turn off the water and climb out, drying off with a towel I pulled from the cabinet. I put my clothes back on, except I wear Junior’s t-shirt instead of the top of my scrubs.
When I come out, masculine voices rumble downstairs. I square my shoulders and play the same game I played as a home healthcare nurse: Act like I run the show around here until everyone gets on board and trusts me enough to let me do my job.
I search the closets until I find a change of sheets, which I bring to Gio’s room. Junior changed out the bloody towels, but we still need to change the sheets, which show some bloodstains. I start pulling the corners off the far side, away from Gio.
“Time to call into work, doll.” Junior stands in the doorway, holding up my phone. He’s showered and dressed, too and looks devastating as ever in a crisp button down and slacks.
He beckons me over, which annoys the piss out of me, but I come. He hands me the phone. I start to turn away, but he catches my forearm. “Uh uh. Stay right here while you call.”
I huff and roll my eyes, but my fingers tremble slightly as I take the phone because I know he’s worried about me trying to signal for help. I’m not thinking of trying anything. I do believe he means to let me go when this is all over. And I’m willing to see it through. Doesn’t mean I’m happy about it, or I think what he’s doing is right, but maybe the money I make off this will help me finally find Jasper.
I call into my department at the hospital and make myself sound miserable. “Hey, Shelly, it’s Desiree Lopez.”
“Hi, Desiree. You don’t sound so good.”
“I don’t feel so good.” I force a loud cough. “I woke up this morning with that nasty flu. I can’t come into work today.”
“Okay, I’ll let them know. Hope you feel better!”
“Thanks,” I moan and end the call, then lift a defiant gaze to Junior.
His lips twitch. “Good girl. Now what are you going to do about your mom?”
I’ve thought about it and I have an idea. “I’m going to text her.”
He reaches for the phone, like he doesn’t trust me, and I yank it back to my chest, thrusting my lower jaw forward.
“I need to read it before you hit send,” he warns.
“Fine.” I type out a text to my mom, telling her I’d called in sick to the hospital, but I really had a home healthcare job that paid twice as much so I was going to take it for the week. I said it involved traveling with a sick patient, so I wouldn’t be around, but I’d check in and call her when I got back.
I hand it to Junior without sending and he reads it. “Good thinking.”
“Your highness approves?”
He hits send and lifts his brows at me. “You really gonna get mouthy with me?”
I open my lips to ask what happens if I do, but the memory of the punishment he already delivered makes me flush. My nipples tingle and burn at the memory of exactly how punitive he gets.
The corners of his mouth quirk slightly and I know he’s read my thoughts. He pockets my phone. I scowl.
“I’m expecting way more than twice as much, you know,” I tell him. “I just had to make it believable for my mom.”