Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“I’m not playing, I’m paying them back. I might have stolen from them, too.”
“Well, you can tell them you’re done with them. You’re coming home with me.”
I shake my head. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
“Oh, it’s fuckin’ happening. You’re mine and I want you back.”
So possessive. Some women would find that sexy. Me, not so much.
“I have something to clear up, I’m not leaving.”
“You have bad people after you, you’re not safe.”
“Aw, how nice you care,” I say sarcastically. “We both know I benefit you and that’s the only reason you’re here. You all want me for something. Bad news, though, hubby. I’m taken.”
He steps forward, and I step back.
“You’re comin’ with me, Poppy.”
“I’m not, because if I do, I’ll die. You’re going to have to deal with that. I have shit to do, when I’m done, we can talk.”
“Fine,” he grinds out. “I stay with you, then. You’re not getting away so easily again.”
Jesus, the man doesn’t give up.
“You can’t come with me,” I say, calmly.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because the cartel are after me and they made me a deal. They’ll let me go, if I give them you.”
Might as well tell the truth, it’s probably the only thing that’ll get him off my back.
“What?” he seethes, his face tight.
“I’m not doing that, obviously, but because of that they’re going to be after me again. I have a plan, though, and if I’m seen with you, that plan won’t work and shit will hit the fan. Best thing you can do for me right now, is stay hidden.”
He blinks, slowly. “You think I’m goin’ to let you get killed by Rocco and his fuckin’ gang? I don’t fuckin’ think so.”
Oh, great.
This is going well.
“Please, Mateo, just do this for me,” I say, glancing around. “I can’t stay, god, this is a huge risk. If someone is watching right now ...”
His eyes scan the area, too.
“Give me your phone number,” he orders.
No point in arguing, he won’t go away if I don’t.
I give it to him.
“I’ll call you later, you better not be lyin’ to me, Poppy.”
I shake my head. “Why the fuck would I make something that awful up? I might hate you, Mateo, but I don’t hate you that much.”
He leans in, his lips brushing over mine in a way that makes me shiver. “You don’t hate me, sweetheart.”
Then, he’s gone.
Well, this is going well.
10
“Where the hell is Beckett?” I ask, arms crossed over my chest, hip cocked out to one side. I angrily blow a piece of hair off my face and glare at Remy, Hugh, and Hank who are all here instead of Beckett, who is bloody well supposed to be helping me get this done.
“He’s busy,” Hugh says, his voice monotone and flat. “You got us.”
“I don’t have time to teach you all how to do it,” I snap, frustrated. “Can you please call him and tell him to get his ass back here and help me?”
“Can’t do that,” Remy says, his voice a little kinder than the other two. “So, you got us.”
I exhale angrily. “I don’t need all of you. Remy, you can stay.”
Remy is the easiest to get along with, no doubt about it. The other two shrug and disappear, clearly having no interest in helping me whatsoever. Fair enough, I suppose, they’d only be wasting my time anyway.
“What do you want me to do?”
Get the cartel off my back.
Get my husband to accept it’s over.
Fuck me so hard I forget about Beckett’s rejection.
Any one of those will be fine.
“Get me a heap of this colored ink,” I say, holding up a bottle. “Bring it over here.”
Remy does as I ask, and even though it’s painful having to tell him what to do, he does it quickly and without fuss. Soon, we have a production line going, and he’s actually picking it up really well.
“Where is Beckett?” I ask Remy.
He shrugs. “Fucks me, he’s angry about somethin’. Been in and out of the club, muttering, throwin’ shit. He’s got somethin’ goin’ down.”
Yes, that something would be Becky.
“Well, considering you’re all supposed to be keeping me captive, you’re not doing a very good job.”
Remy grunts. “You’re not a captive, let’s be honest, you could go anytime you wanted.”
“Not without consequences,” I point out.
He chuckles. “Is how it is, babe.”
Babe.
Ugh.
I hate that word.
“Why babe?” I mutter. “You don’t know me, don’t call me that.”
“It’s a term, could call you worse.”
“I think I’d rather worse,” I grumble. “Like maybe bitch, or whore. Either will do.”
Remy chuckles. “You’re fuckin’ crazy, bitch.”
I laugh. “See, didn’t that feel better.”
He grins. “Gotta say, I can see why Beckett likes bein’ here with you.”
“Oh, trust me, he doesn’t like being here with me.”
“Could have fooled me.” Remy stops what he’s doing to look at me. “He’s always askin’ to be here, even when Riggs offers one of us to be.”