Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 169(@200wpm)___ 135(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
For a long time, she didn’t say anything. Just sat there holding my hand and brushing her fingers over mine. She looked so fragile sitting there, much younger than the first time I’d seen her. There was a fighter in there. There had to be for her to have survived the injuries she had. She was hurting, but she’d get her strength back. When she did, we’d come to an understanding. That understanding being she was mine to protect. Even if she didn’t want me, I would always protect her.
To the fucking death.
Chapter Eight
Cecilia
The next several days passed in comfortable companionship for me and Atticus. Bullet. I still had trouble thinking of him as Bullet. It seemed to go against his desire to help people. He was always near me. The only time he left me was to check on his patient. I didn’t know her name, but he said she was in her nineties. He didn’t say much because he was bound by confidentiality not to, but he indicated she was getting better and more confident with her new medication.
I was feeling a lot better. I was still sore, but the bruises were fading and I hurt less and less. I’d also learned a few things about myself.
First, I didn’t like how Atticus’ fruit punch made me feel. Yeah, I got the giggles and it dulled my pain, but it also made me feel completely out of control. I thought that, had my life experiences not been what they were, I’d have loved the stuff as much as Lemon did.
Second, I was fast falling head over heels for Bullet. Never in my life had a man treated me with so much care and respect. Maybe it was because he was a doctor. Just… something ingrained into his makeup. All I knew was, I’d never felt so cared for and safe. Or respected. We still had conversations about things. Sometimes they were deep and meaningful. Other times fun and silly. And the guy really had a thing for action flicks. I think I gave away a little piece of my heart to him every single day.
Right now, though, he was gone to see his patient, so Apple and I sat in the common room. I wasn’t too keen on that room because the women reminded me of so many of Ettore’s girls. Some of us tried to stick together, to protect each other, but the truth was Ettore did his best to encourage dissent. It was in his best interest. That way, no one escaped. The club whores seemed to be the same way. All of them thought they’d be queen of the club if they could just score a member high enough.
“I know who you are.” One of the girls stopped in front of me, her hands on her hips. She didn’t look happy. “You’re one of Ettore Alfonso’s whores. He finds out you’re here, he’ll kill us all.”
“I think you need to shut up, Chyna.” That was from one of the other girls. Apple ignored the whole lot of them, playing on her phone.
“You shut up, Coco. She’s a danger to all of us.”
“You honestly think Rocket’s gonna let some mobster in here? This place is the safest place in the country.”
“Don’t you know who Ettore Alfonso is? He controls everything on the lower Eastern seaboard. When people go up against him, they die. She’s gonna get someone killed just being here.”
I sucked in a breath. I hadn’t even thought of that. Like it or not, this woman was right. What if Euphemia, the child Lemon had rescued who now lived with the club, got hurt? I’d never forgive myself.
“Get that look off your face, Cecilia.” Apple put her phone down and glared at Chyna. “Chyna was just leaving.”
“Bitch, you can’t make me leave.”
“I don’t have to. What do you think’s gonna happen when my sister hears how you’re harassing an old lady in this club? You’ll be out on your ear.”
“She’s not an old lady.” Chyna sneered at me, looking me up and down and obviously finding me lacking. “Anyone looking at her can tell what she is. She’s a whore. Just like the rest of us. Patched members don’t take whores as old ladies.”
I shook my head, not wanting to believe what Chyna was saying but knowing it was true. The mafia leaders and enforcers didn’t take wives from or claim women who were whores. Double standard? Definitely. But they didn’t want every man in the family knowing what their wives were like in bed. Since the men were in charge, the rest of us didn’t have a say.
“That’s it.” Apple stood and advanced on Chyna. The taller woman looked smug, like she didn’t believe anyone Apple’s size could possibly hurt her. Chyna was at least five ten while Apple wasn’t much over five three. But what Apple lacked in brawn, she apparently made up for in spunk.