Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
To my surprise, she didn't snap that it was none of my business or tell me to get lost or claim it was some gag gift. She shrugged a shoulder slightly and looked down at her plate for a second. "We traveled a lot when I was a kid. I became really attached to my Gameboy. Flight after flight or train or car ride after train or car ride, I always had Charmander or Bulbasaur to keep me occupied."
"You don't fidget," I said and her head snapped up, brows drawn together. "Kids who grow up gaming all the time, they tend to fidget. They're used to their hands always being active so when they're still, they tap their fingers or pull their jewelry or mess with their hair. You don't fidget."
"You know how in poker, everyone has a tell?" she asked, but went on without an answer. "When you fidget, people read into it."
"And heaven fucking forbid someone gets to crack open your cover, huh?"
"Hey, Kettle, it's Pot," she said, shaking her head. "You're black."
"Alright," I said, nodding, accepting that. I couldn't expect her to spill if I didn't give her something too. "Quid pro quo, Agent Starling..."
"So in this little scenario, you're a face-eating cannibal?" she asked, brow raised.
"Play along, you pain in the ass."
She snorted at that, not able to hold back the smile. She fucking liked me. If she would just stop being so goddamn chicken shit all the time.
"Alright, is Renny your real name?"
"Yeah," I agreed, already uncomfortable with the line of questioning. But if I expected her to peel back a layer, I needed to as well. "It's my mother's maiden name. Renny Renolds West." That was more than I gave anyone save for Reign and the other higher-up guys. It was more than I wanted anyone to know. Because there was only one Renny Renolds West and a search of Renny Renolds West would produce the name of two doctors named Katherine Renny-West and Roland West. From there, there would be a lot of speculation about how the son of two extremely prominent and respected shrinks from up in Maine ended up with a biker for a son. And Mina, yeah, she was every damn bit as good as she thought she was. She would dig up my dirt eventually.
Somehow, it wasn't as fucking terrifying as it usually seemed.
"Renny Renolds West," she rolled my name around on her tongue, sounding way too fucking good in that odd accent of hers. "How... distinguished. What no third or fourth attached to that?"
"My parents were a bit pretentious. They liked their appearances. It was bad enough I had copper fucking hair. They couldn't have a kid running around named Billy or Bobby or some shit like that."
"Were?"
"Are." She caught fucking everything. It was oddly sexy. Which probably said a lot about me and my odd proclivities. "Alright, you're up," I said and noticed how hard she tried to not stiffen, but she did. "Joey or Chandler?"
She jerked back at that, her perfect goddamn lips parting. "I'm sorry... what?"
"Joey or Chandler. From Friends."
"I'm not sure I understand the question," she said, brows drawing together, creasing a small line between them.
"Which one do you like better?"
"You can't be serious," she said, shaking her head. "You're given a free pass to ask me anything, but you want to know my preferences on some sitcom?"
"You can tell a lot about a girl if you know her preferences on fictional sitcom characters. Pick one."
She looked up at the top bunk for a second, her head shaking. "I guess... Chandler."
"Why?"
"That's two questions."
"Yeah, but mine is trivial. Trivial questions get to have a follow up question to keep it fair."
"Are these rules written down somewhere?" she shot back. "Can I have a copy of this rule book?"
"No need, I have it all up here," I said, tapping my temple. "Answer."
She licked her lips. "His sarcasm is used to mask his deep-rooted insecurity and vulnerability brought on by a confusing and non-traditional upbringing."
"Why not Joey then? He's a simpler character."
"Who wants simple?" she shot back and it was the right fucking response. "Okay. You joined The Henchmen when you were about twenty. But you had been kicking around Navesink Bank for years before then. Why did you run away from home?"
"Why does a rat chew off his feet to escape the sticky tape?"
"Oh," she said, clearly surprised at the bluntness. Frankly, I was a little surprised myself.
"Why didn't your mother love you?" I asked, catching her off guard and her eyes went huge for a short second. "She didn't, that much is clear. But why?"
She swallowed a little hard at that and then exhaled slowly. "Because I wasn't a boy and because I couldn't make my father love her."
"Babies never save a bad marriage," I agreed.