Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Bits and pieces of information fall into place. “It’s her, isn’t it? None of this has made any fucking sense since we saw you, but for your sister? Yeah, I can see that.”
Natalie goes pale as a ghost. “I—I don’t know what you mean.”
“Little sis has a habit that ran up a tab, and you threw yourself on the motherfucking sword.” I shake my head.
“No! Well, kinda.” Natalie’s shoulders slump and she stares down at the cracked sidewalk at her feet. “I don’t know exactly why the Unwanted came for her, but I don’t care. Even if it was all her fault, what was I supposed to do? Hand over my sister? Could you do that?”
“Don’t got a sister.”
“Well… would you let someone take Animal or Badass? They are kind of like your brothers, right?”
Fuck. She must sense my hesitation, because she presses herself against me awkwardly. “I’m pretending for you, right? Can you pretend a little for me? Act like we just met, and… I don’t know. We’re having a crazy fling so I’ve been out of touch for a few days.”
“Who the fuck would believe that bullshit? Look at us.”
Hurt flashes across her face. “I know I’m not beautiful or anything, but—”
For fuck’s sake.
I lean down and kiss her. It only takes a second before she’s melting into me. There. Women make things too fucking complicated. I let her go and strip off my cut, hanging it over my arm where the logo won’t be visible.
“I can’t believe this shit,” I mutter under my breath. “You fucking owe me.”
"You own me already," she says quietly, and fuck if I’m not going to hell, because that gets my blood pumping. "If you guys can get me—us—out of this, I'll owe you everything."
"Let's fucking do this, then."
Natalie pushes open the front door to the building without even bothering with a key. She hears me growl and looks over. “What?”
“Nothing. Let’s get this over with.” No fucking way she’s coming back here when we’re done.
It gets even worse. Up a flight of stairs that smells like behind the bar on a Saturday night, we walk down a dimly lit hallway and come to a door with a fucking sign hung up that reads, "Natalie and Sandra" in big bubbly letters with fucking rainbows and unicorns in the background.
The door's locked—at least that’s something—so she knocks. A moment later, a younger version of Natalie peeks out. Her hair is curlier, and she’s got a slimmer build, but definitely the sister. She manages to both look too young to be living on her own, but hard around the edges in a way Natalie doesn’t, even after the past few days. When she sees Natalie, her face lights up like the sun just rose.
"Oh my God! You're alive! I've been so worried!" She throws herself around Natalie like she's climbing a tree. "Where the hell have you been?"
Natalie squeezes back just as hard. Maybe it's just as well Badass and Animal aren't here. They’d be fucking suckers for this display of sisterly love.
"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Natalie repeats as she gets pulled into the apartment.
"I didn't know what to do. I almost called the police, that's how worried I was."
As someone who's had their share of run-ins, never mind getting a fucking bullet in my gut from the local boys in blue, I can fucking relate. Then the sister’s eyes land on me for the first time even though I'm standing in the middle of her living room.
"Who's he?" She frowns suspiciously, and I fucking get it. Like recognizes like. She might not know who I am, but even without the cut, she knows I’m not a fucking accountant.
"I'm… Eric." Now that's a name I haven't used in years.
Natalie looks at me with raised eyebrows. With a little shrug, I nod. “Eric, this is Sandra. My little sister.”
“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you. Now why is he with you? And why didn’t you have your key?” Sandra looks back and forth between us.
Natalie touches her hand tentatively to my arm, and I wrap it around her waist, pulling her close. She makes a tiny squeak. “We um… I met Eric at work and got a little carried away. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You’re… together? He was a customer at the bakery? Seriously?”
"Guilty as fucking charged," I say, stroking a hand down Natalie’s generous hip, but stopping just short of taking a handful of ass. "One bite of that muffin and I was sold."
It's a good thing Sandra's looking at me so she doesn't see Natalie's glare.
"I thought Ramona had you working with bread lately." She looks between us. "How long have you been together?"
"Um… It's been a little while," says Natalie, and even after such a short time knowing her, it's obvious she’s not a practiced bullshit artist. "But it got kind of serious the last couple days."