Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
“I thought you could read people.” She’s haughty in her response, and I grin again.
“I can guess.”
“Oh yeah? Give it a go.”
There’s another red light, and when I’m stopped I take a long look up and down her body. I’m slow about it, and after a moment she begins to fidget as her cheeks flush.
“Something with people?” I hedge.
“Is that all you’ve got?” She huffs and shakes her head. “I think you like hearing yourself talk.”
“You’re a housekeeper,” I say, and she snaps her head in my direction as her eyes widen.
“How did you guess that?”
“I’m psychic.”
She turns in her seat to face me and crosses her arms over her chest. “Seriously, I want to know.”
“Are you sure?” When she nods, I decide to tell her the truth. “Your nails are clean and short, which means you most likely work with your hands and/or water. Your shoes are made for comfort, and your jeans have spots of bleach on them.”
“That could mean a lot of things.”
“True, but the neighborhood you live in suggests a lifestyle of cash and word-of-mouth business.” I glance over, and she’s not looking at me anymore. “Hey, I do this for a living, it's my job to notice things like this.”
“Paul didn’t know. Please don’t say anything to anyone.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“It’s not your business.” She cuts me off, and I watch as she reaches down and grabs her bag. “I’m not your business.”
“Kelly, I’m sorry—” She’s out of the car and slamming the door behind her before I can react. I’m locked in by the cars around me at the red light, and all I can do is watch her running down a side street. “Fuck.”
It feels like forever before the light changes, but when it does, I drive in the direction of her address. When I get to the street, I drive up and down it twice before I realize what she’s done. The number she put in is for a business and not a residence.
I stare at the glowing yellow sign that flashes “Psychic on Duty” and let out a breath of frustration. Guess I should have seen that coming.
Chapter Three
KELLY
I’m thankful when I enter my home and don’t see my father anywhere. I hadn’t noticed any of his cars outside, but that doesn’t always mean he’s not here. I lean against the closed door, hating the shame I feel over my situation. I’ve never felt it before now, which only pisses me off more.
I suppose it’s better that Luke and Paul’s family assume I’m poor because it’s better than the reality. Well, technically I am poor, but my father isn’t. Not in this neighborhood. Here he’s the king and has the one thing that so many of them want. Drugs. This part of town thrives and dies off what my father sells. It’s a vicious cycle that no one around here can escape.
Paul was an addict, and I should have known. He works in finance, so I assumed the deal he made with my father was about money. In the back of my mind, I thought maybe money laundering. My father doesn’t hide what he does, and he conducts his business out of our home. But he doesn't just throw it out there either. I try to keep my head down and out of it, and I do my best not to hear what he’s up to. It only makes me feel guiltier because there isn’t anything I can do to stop him. Not when I don’t know who’s on my father’s payroll, which includes a few of the local police officers.
“Marco?” I call for my brother and grit my teeth. If he’s not here that means my father took him with him, and that’s not part of the deal. Though our deal might be off, how could my father know that already?
I go to my room and dig through my bag to find my phone. I’m hoping Marco took his with him. I bought it months ago with my own money. He was supposed to keep it hidden from our father but always on him when he leaves the house.
“God, I hate him.” I drop down onto my bed, knowing the only thing I can do is wait. He probably has him at one of his warehouses.
It feels like forever later when I jerk awake at the sound of Marco’s voice.
“Kel?”
I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but sometimes the exhaustion catches up with me. “You’re home.” I sit up and grab my brother's face to kiss his cheeks.
“Ah, come on.” He scrunches his nose. “I’m not a little kid.”
“You are,” I tell him because he’ll always be a baby to me.
He’s only twelve, but I suppose with the kind of life we live, he’s grown up more than he should have at this point. My father is always trying to lure my brother into the family business. That was his plan until we made a deal of our own.