Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
My eyes widened, and my palms dampened. If I looked in a mirror, I’m sure my pupils would be dilated as well.
Cabe took in my reaction to him, just like he always did, and stayed far away from me. He knew how uncomfortable I was with him, and that was what made my reaction to him seem so stupid. I knew deep down that he’d never hurt me, but my rational mind and my logical mind didn’t seem to connect at times.
“H-hi, Mr. Warren,” I said, putting the table and the dead girl between us.
He smiled sadly at me. “Hello, Channing. How are you today, sweetheart?”
I shrugged. “I’m okay.”
His mouth kicked up at the corner, transforming his hard face from granite to a softness I didn’t often see in him. “You look kind of like crap.”
I laughed; I couldn’t help it.
Not many men were so candidly open with women. I liked a man who wasn’t afraid of a woman going off on him when he told her she looked like crap.
“Cabe!” Brittany chastised. “You don’t tell a woman she looks like crap!”
He chuckled. “Sorry.”
He didn’t sound very sorry, but that was okay. I liked a man with balls.
“It’s okay. I had an asthma attack a couple of days ago. The old allergies are kicking up again since it started raining so much. Not to mention spring is right around the corner,” I told them.
“You ready, pretty girl?” Cabe asked his wife.
She smiled dreamily at him, making me long for someone to look at me like that, and walked into his arms. “Yep. I am.”
“Bye you two. Have a good date night.” I told them.
After they relayed their goodbyes, I got back to work, spending my night with the peace and quiet of the dead.
Chapter 3
If you think a minute goes by fast, you’ve never had a transvestite try to strangle you with a coat hanger because you called him sir.
-Life lesson
Loki
“Anything new?” My boss, Cabe Warren, asked me.
I stepped up to my blinds and flicked them open with two fingers, peering out at the dangerous neighborhood.
“No. He came to the neighbor, but she got in her car and drove off before it got out of hand. The guys a fucking creep,” I growled into my phone.
We all knew that he was dirty; I just hoped he didn’t ‘piss where he slept.’ I didn’t need another complication like the hot woman next door, or her shitty brother. I also didn’t need to worry about my target raping the women in his neighborhood. But I was.
“Have you made contact with him yet?” He asked.
I watched as my neighbor came out with a bucket and the water hose as she got ready to wash her car. Not that the car needed it. It was too rusted out for a wash to make a difference, but she did it every Saturday like clockwork.
“Met him last night when I was walking Lucy,” I confirmed.
Lucy was my three-year-old Rottie. She also thought she was a human, and never met a stranger.
Which chapped my ass when the piece of shit Varian bent down and scratched my dog with his filth stained hands. I didn’t want those hands anywhere near anything of mine. Inwardly, I was snarling in outrage. Outwardly, seeing the faded jeans that I picked up at the Goodwill, black motorcycle boots, needle marks, shaggy hair, and the stained white t-shirt, he dismissed me as less than dog shit. Which was what I wanted.
I wanted him to think I wasn’t a threat, but more of a...possible business associate.
If he saw the ragged clothes, the shitty house, and the less than stellar car, then maybe he would think I was desperate, and could be bought.
But I couldn’t come on too strong, otherwise he’d be suspicious of my motives.
Instead, I stayed in a house with a foreclosed sign out front, and worked on my truck all day so I could make it look like I had no job and very little ambition.
Then, when I walked into his construction office on Monday morning for my interview, he’d know I was in dire straits.
Hopefully.
“Good,” Cabe said. “I’ve got to get back to work, and so do you. What time’s the interview next week?”
“Monday at nine,” I sighed.
“Good, I’ve had taps put on V.S. Construction’s phones again. Surveillance will start once you get officially hired. Talk to you later,” he hung up.
I’d already gone over it more than once with him, as well as the rest of the team. I knew he was worried about me, but there was only so much a man could take.
I’d turned in my resignation before this job even started, and the chief hadn’t accepted it.
I was beyond tired of being someone I wasn’t. I was ready to just be me. A police officer and a member of The Dixie Wardens.
The Dixie Wardens MC was my home away from home.
When I turned eighteen, I’d joined the Coast Guard and left my hometown of Boca Grande. I lived and breathed the Coast guard for six years before my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer.
Even though she’d reassured me that she didn’t need me, I’d retired and come home to help her with the store she owned. The one she loved with all her heart and soul.
My father had died while serving in Desert Storm when I was nine months old. With the pension my mom received, she opened up her shop, You Are My, on the Boardwalk in downtown Boca Grande.
For six months, mom and I worked at the store and kicked cancers’ ass.
Once she’d gotten the all clear, I’d gone into the police academy.
Once out of the academy, I’d moved to Benton, Louisiana where I’d met my best friend, Killian ‘Trance’ Spurlock.
Trance and I both prospected with the local MC because of our love of bikes. From there, we’d become brothers and best friends.
Now, the only thing missing was my mom, but she’d never leave her store, and I’d never leave my club.
A knock at my door startled me, and I realized I’d been watching my neighbor wash her car so long that she was now done and nowhere to be seen.