Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I glance back at Aries, who is stacking his plate again. Where the hell did he put all that? I glance among the men. "Did he even eat, or did he just inhale his food like a vacuum?"
They all laugh, even Aries, who then shrugs.
"Why do you think we get so much pizza?" Lee says, waving to the stacked boxes for the four of us. "Drew can have leftovers."
The mention of Drew's name makes the smile slip off my face, and the tension returns to the room.
"Way to go, asshole," Aries mutters to Lee.
Lee doesn't even flinch. "So what is going on between you two? I saw you kiss one of the new kids at the party? He's still alive, by the way, for now. Not sure how long that will last, though."
Seb grabs another slice of piece, this time a sausage and mushroom, even as Aries growls at him. "Let's not dive into that conversation, Lee. Let’s just sit and have a nice relaxing dinner."
Aries snorts. “I hate to break it to you, boss, but nothing about dinner is relaxing.”
Seb ignores Aries's pointed comment and stares at Lee. "How’s life for you? What about your girl? The one your family is setting you up with?"
Lee grumbles under his breath and shoves half a slice of pizza in his mouth. After he swallows, he licks his fingers. "Apparently, we are getting married. Because that works so well in our world. They’re calling it an arranged marriage.”
I consider his words. "Is that what was happening with Drew and that girl at the party?"
Sebs sighs like he would love anything better than talking about Drew for five minutes. "Yes. His father forced him to spend time with her for some business thing. And he made it very clear that Drew had to do anything and everything she wanted."
I try to think back to that night, but after the head wound, things became a little blurrier.
Lee carries on. "She was a fucking witch. Her slimy hands were all over him, all over us too when we tried to distract her so he could talk to you."
Thinking about Drew makes me want to see him and talk to him. Why isn’t he here? I should’ve asked Seb earlier when he said he wouldn’t be here why he wouldn’t be here? I drag my cell phone out from under the table and tap out a quick text to him.
Me: Hey, where are you? At The Mill eating pizza.
I wait for a response, but all it says is delivered. I try not to let the disappointment take root and put my phone away, focusing my attention back on the conversation.
21
DREW
The anger simmers in my veins. Deeper and heavier than before, like a sticky paste. I have more questions than I have answers, and it’s frustrating as hell. Playing detective isn’t my thing, and having the patience to wait it out is also not standard for me.
My go-to at this point would be to find someone, start a fight, taunt the fucker, and then lay him out, or fuck the first willing girl I find, but neither of those things will get me Bel back, and I’d rather cut off my cock then put it in someone else at this point. So I take myself back to the gym to pound my rage into the bag some more, since my earlier session ended short.
I want to see her. I want to go home, drag her into my bed, and force her sweet little mouth down on my cock. It feels like it's been too long even though it really hasn't.
My phone beeps signaling and incoming text and I pull it out staring down at the screen.
Flower: Hey, where are you? At The Mill eating pizza.
I’m tempted to toss my evening plans aside and crash their little shit show, but even I know that would be a terrible idea. With the mood I’m in right now, there would be no stopping me from getting into a fight with Sebastian and or kidnapping Bel. I want to do that on almost any day, and today would be the worst when my temper is flaring, and my tolerance for bullshit is at an all-time low. I tell myself I’ll text her back later and close the message before sliding the phone back into my pocket.
I’d be shit for conversation right now, and if I’m going to do better by Bel, that means I’m going to rein my temper in and fix my shit before I talk to her. As I walk into the gym, I find there to be fewer people than usual.
There are a couple of the new mill guys a couple of yards ahead who cast glances every so often but none of them go out of their way to converse with me. It’s almost like I’m wearing a blinding neon sign that says: Don’t Fuck With Me.