Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Right now I feel like pacing, like I'm that caged animal I pictured myself being earlier, only I'm not a little hamster. I'm a lion or a bear of some sort, something that can and will cause tremendous damage when confronted.
"Pax."
I turn from him.
"Pax."
I shake my head, my pulse pounding in my ears. I hold my hand up, begging for just a moment to get my shit under control before I turn back to face him once again.
"I can handle myself."
Ace stands, lifting his glass to his lips and swallowing the rest of the amber liquid before speaking. "One hint that you're in too deep, and I'm going to pull you."
He drops the glass to the wooden table, the sound of its echo following him from the room and out the front door.
I know why he's so concerned. His best friend, Noah "Skid" Upton, a man he was in Cerberus with, who also followed him to work for ICE, got too involved with a woman connected to a drug cartel and it cost the man his life. The rule working for this organization was that you form no bonds, no connections.
On paper, it was the easiest fucking thing to do. I had no concerns about my ability before leaving New Mexico. Staying unaffected is turning out to be harder than I ever imagined after the way Zara makes me feel.
I just need to get my shit under the same control I was capable of convincing Ace that I have. This is a job, one of many I'll work for ICE. Zara will either be in jail for helping run an illegal organization with Tommy Wilkinson, or she'll be a non-issue when I move on. Either way, there isn't a single scenario where we'll end up together. I have a job to do, people to save, and others to hurt. I can't let the way she calms me get in the way of any of that. This isn't about me. It never has been.
Chapter 16
Zara
A restlessness swims inside of me as I wipe down the bar top.
I haven't seen Owen for three days, and seriously, fuck him for doing exactly what he needed to do for me to get over whatever it was that I was starting to feel for the man.
"Sharon still isn't back," Jersey says when I wipe in front of him.
"Did she say she was coming back?" I ask, wincing for even engaging him in this line of conversation. I don't want to get personal with these people, not about my own life and not about theirs either.
I just want to serve drinks for a couple of hours, six days a week, and live my own damn life.
"She said she wouldn't even consider it until I stopped drinking so much."
I look from his eyes to the beer in his hand, annoyed that men think they can do the exact thing we tell them not to do and get different results.
"This is only my second beer," he argues.
"But you've still been here for the last," I look down at my watch because he showed up right after my five o'clock shift started, "four hours."
"But I've only had two beers," he repeats.
I shake my head and walk away, deciding to busy myself with anything other than dealing with stubborn men.
I rearrange the glasses, pulling the ones that have had stuff dribbled on them from serving other drinks. It's not hard to keep this place clean, but Edith missing stuff like this just rubs me the wrong way. I continuously grow annoyed as I clean. It's not Edith's fault. Tommy really should have more than two people working at this damn bar. He works the Tuesday evening shift every week, so both Edith and I can have a full day off, but that's it.
I need more than one day off to recoup even though I don't have shit to do in my personal life.
I feel like an asshole as I cuss the man in my head. Working six days a week was our agreement from the very beginning, and since I'm no stranger to working, it wasn't a problem at the time. It's only a problem now because I haven't slept very well the last couple of nights, and I'm exhausted.
I should be blaming Owen because he's the one that seems to have infiltrated my every damn thought, not Tommy who was gracious enough to give me a job in the first place.
I know he could charge more rent to someone else than he's charging me, and I should be grateful for that too.
I pull in a deep breath, calming my hands on the glasses in front of me, trying to keep my anger at Owen from invading other aspects of my life.
Regardless, I know I still need a second day off and soon.