Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Goddamn, I’m such a fucking idiot.
My fingers curl around the cool metal of Sawyer’s phone, and I let out a shaky breath before quickly scurrying away, trying to keep quiet. I head into the kitchen before leaning up against the counter and glancing up at him across the apartment. He’s still sound asleep, and a twisted grin stretches across my face, finally feeling as though I might just get somewhere.
Glancing down at the phone, I blow my cheeks out with a heavy breath. The likelihood that this thing doesn’t require a passcode is not looking great, but I try my luck. Swiping my thumb across the screen, my jaw drops as the phone unlocks. I gape at it, unable to believe what I’m seeing.
Holy hell. Who doesn’t have a passcode or even a pattern or thumbprint requirement for their phone these days? Having it freely available for snoopy little eyes is almost unheard of, but fuck, if he’s going to practically offer it all up on a silver platter for me, who the hell am I to deny it?
Heading straight for the text messages, I start scrolling, opening the most recent and finding a text from some girl named Brandi that came through late last night, and within seconds I realize that Brandi is nothing but a thirsty hoe.
I hastily click out of it before going to the next. A text from Stacey, hitting up Sawyer only a few hours before Brandi.
It goes on and on, horny skank after horny skank, and by the time I’m reaching the tenth booty call in a roll, I start to wonder if I’m going to find anything at all.
“After you find what you’re looking for,” Sawyer says from the couch, his eyes still closed, “go cry to someone else.”
My eyes bug out of my head, caught with my hand in the cookie jar. Hell, I can’t even pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. He’s caught me right in the act, but he’s got me wrong if he thinks I’m snooping through his phone to find out how many girls he’s been screwing. I couldn’t give a shit about that. The only thing I’m interested in is what the fuck this Empire thing is, and what I have to do with any of it.
Quickly realizing I’m not going to find anything substantial, I drop the phone to the counter with a heavy sigh before glancing toward the elevator door. I could probably still make it out of here.
I glance back toward Sawyer to find his sleepy, green gaze on me. “You won’t even get to the lobby before we find you,” he mutters. “And trust me, you won’t like what happens if you try to escape us, so do us all a favor and just play along.”
I narrow my gaze on him, frustration burning through my body. But I have to admit, at least he was nice enough to give me a warning. He could have just watched me try, only for me to end up in a situation that’ll have me wanting to strangle them . . . you know, more than I already do. “Drop dead,” I tell him.
He sits up on the couch, bracing his elbows against his knees. “Feisty this morning,” he says. “What’s up? Cross didn’t fuck you hard enough?”
As if on cue, Cross comes sailing through the apartment, scoffing as he overhears Sawyer’s comment. “You know damn well I fucked her just right,” he says, striding past me to the fridge, not even sparing me a single glance. He grabs the bottle of orange juice and lifts it to his lips, taking a quick swig.
“Use a fucking glass,” Zade spits from across the apartment, stepping out of a room I can only assume is his home office, though I have no idea what kind of business would be going on in there. Hell, up until this weekend, I assumed these guys were college students, though a niggling voice inside my head tells me I couldn’t be further from the truth.
Zade’s gaze falls to me before noticing the phone on the counter beside my hands. He’s probably assuming I was up to something shady, which I definitely was, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Well, if it isn’t the big man in charge,” I say, narrowing my gaze on him, not liking the disapproving stare in his eyes. “Kidnapped anyone this morning?”
“No one worth mentioning,” he throws back at me, striding through the kitchen and heading for the espresso machine.
My jaw clenches, and I whip around, fixing him with a hard stare. “You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that, right?”
Zade scoffs and steps into me, those psychotic eyes locked on mine. “Oh yeah? Considering this asshole is the only reason you’re still fucking breathing, I’d suggest you shut your mouth and watch who you’re talking to. Otherwise, you might just find yourself locked in a cement cell. I know how you like those.”