Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“You have a name?” I asked.
“My friends call me Spike,” he claimed, chin lifting.
“No, they don’t,” I snorted. “Give me an actual name, kid.”
“Joel.”
“Alright, Joel. I’m gonna make you an offer,” I said, moving back out into the living area to close the door to the hallway, but not before doing a paranoid sweep of it first.
“I’m listening.”
“You sit your ass in that hallway, what? Pretty much from the minute you get home until two or three in the morning?”
“About that,” he agreed.
“If I give you my number, can I pay you to keep an eye on my place, and text me if you ever see someone coming to my door?”
“How much we talking?”
“More than you got now,” I said, but I was smiling. What can I say? I liked rough-around-the-edges people with a little bit of greed and hunger for more. Reminded me a lot of myself when I was young. “Two-fifty a week,” I offered.
“Done,” he agreed.
“But you gotta not get caught watching,” I told him, reaching for my wallet that had been sitting full at Dav’s house for weeks since he insisted on paying for everything. I had money stashed in my apartment that I needed to look for. But not with eyes watching.
“I’m always minding my own business,” he said, shrugging. “‘Cept I ain’t,” he admitted.
“Good. Because descriptions would be appreciated, but don’t make it obvious,” I said.
“Not my business, but seems like you could get cameras,” he said.
“The fuck kind of businessman are you, trying to lose the job I just gave you?” I asked, handing him the money. “Cameras are good, but I prefer eyes. Once they go downstairs, you can look out a window and let me know where they go. Cameras can’t.”
“I could lie. Camera’s can’t.”
“You’re a little shit,” I said, but I was giving him a smile. “I’m gonna have a couple deliveries coming over the next few hours. No need to text me if you see that today.”
“Got it,” he said, nodding as he went to the door, discreetly tucking the cash away.
“Hey, kid,” I called.
“Yeah.”
“Use some of that money to get yourself some food. You look like you’re gonna fall through your own ass.”
To that, I got a small smile as he moved out into the hall.
I waited until I was sure he had his music bumping again before I rushed to the door and slid the locks, minutes passing before I felt like I could take a full breath again.
I needed to calm down.
Some part of me had been expecting this.
Of course after I got away, they were going to want to track me down, finish what they started. The first place they’d look was my apartment.
Maybe it was tossed just because they were pissed when I didn’t show up.
But there was the potential that they’d been looking for something, so I went around my apartment, checking my hiding spots, finding my official documents, stashes of cash, and even my fake IDs and shit I paid a shitton of money for.
Nothing, as far as I could tell, was missing.
I tucked more cash into my wallet before finally taking a second to sit down and order the makeup I was going to need. Along with several new locks for the door. Motion alarms for the windows. And a few cameras small enough to hide just about anywhere.
I set my apartment back to rights as I waited for my deliveries, then installed the new locks. Three more on my main door. But also two on my bedroom. And an extra on my bathroom.
Outside of my bedroom, I had a fire escape. Sure, it was broken off near the bottom, but I’d always kind of liked that feature. It meant no one could use it to climb up and spy on any of us, or break into our places. But we could still use it in case of an emergency. Sure, the drop would hurt. Maybe even break a bone. But you’d survive.
As for the locks on the bathroom, well, that was just because the idea of being in there, naked, alone, and very vulnerable made my skin prickle and my stomach cramp.
Even after I had the locks installed, going in and taking off my clothes as I waited for the water to warm up was more nerve-racking than it had any right to be.
But I couldn’t let the fear take over my life.
So I forced myself into the shower, and let the spray wash away the scent of Dav all over me, pretending like losing that last little part of him didn’t make my chest ache in an alarming, unfamiliar way.
And if the gun sat right on the ledge of the tub the whole time, well, so be it.
Finished with that, I tried my hand at mixing the makeups until I finally had the right shade, then followed the instructions I found online, and dabbing lavender and green color correctors on the right bruise shades before applying some concealer, and, finally, the foundation.