Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I didn’t. But thanks for giving me more shit to worry about,” Nyx said.
“Just something to be aware of. You’re healthy as can be right now.”
“Did I thank you for that tonic?” Nyx asked.
“Which one?”
“The one that made my monthly three days of rocking in bed with insane cramps much more tolerable.”
“Oh, good! It’s an adaptation of something I’ve been using for years. Oh, put that money away. We’re friends,” Morgaine insisted. “Besides, that whole Clay and Cabernet thing I started is really taking off. I don’t need the money anymore. I just want to give it as gifts.”
“Careful with that. I might just abuse your generosity and start using that hair mask every single day.”
“Even if you do, I will have more ready,” Morgaine said. “Hey, come take a walk with me,” she said, touching Nyx’s arm. “I want to talk to you,” she said, and I got the feeling she silently added alone.
For all I knew, they were going to talk about more period stuff. But I got the feeling it was more than that. That it might be about why Nyx had been looking so unrested.
“She looked good with a baby,” Detroit said as he came back down without the kid.
“Yeah,” I agreed, exhaling hard.
“Whoever she starts a family with some day is gonna be blessed with some pretty-eyed kids.”
Why was the first feeling I felt hope?
Followed by crushing fucking disappointment?
I wouldn’t let myself think about it too much.
Luckily, Riff and Raff blew in early.
The booze started to flow.
And there wasn’t a whole fuckuva lot of thinking after that.
CHAPTER SIX
Nyx
“Damnit damnit damnit,” I hissed when I opened my door to see a box sitting there.
I hadn’t stopped thinking and worrying about the heroin, of course. It was the reason for the purple smudges under my eyes that even my makeup wasn’t fully covering up anymore. It was why my pants were feeling just a little bit looser.
I guess I’d just figured it that it was a test of some sort. Or maybe something to lord over me if I ever thought about going to the cops about the stalking or something.
But when I saw another box, well, I didn’t know what the fuck to think. Other than I had to get rid of it again.
Luckily, it was an hour short of my work shift this time, so I wasn’t sneaking around the grounds in the middle of the day where anyone might see me.
Dressed almost entirely in black, as usual, I rushed toward the sheds, wincing at the squeak of the doors. If this shit was going to continue, I might need to WD-40 the damn things.
I half-tripped over a lawn rake before making it to the back. Removing the half-filled bag of dirt, then the smaller pots, I was ready to shove the next set of bricks in when I realized that there was no padding between one pot and the largest one at the bottom.
My heart seized in my chest as I pulled up the pot to confirm my suspicions.
The kilos of heroin I’d placed there last time were gone.
Gone.
“No. No no no no no,” I hissed, voice high and hysterical.
Forty to four hundred thousand dollars of drugs belonging to a fucking organized crime syndicate.
Gone.
I stumbled back out of the shed with the next batch of heroin still safely in its garbage bag.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” I muttered to myself over and over as I walked somewhat aimlessly, not really sure where I was going, just following where my legs were deciding to leave me.
It wasn’t until I was standing at the edge of it that I realized where I’d automatically gone.
Home.
Well, my childhood home.
I hadn’t been back in a while.
My mom was still alive. Still drinking. Still shacking up with random shitheads.
To say our relationship was strained was an understatement.
That said, she was still my mom.
And maybe she’d been neglectful, but she hadn’t been outright abusive. So while I made a conscious decision not to have her crazy be a big part of my life, I dropped in on mother’s day and her birthday. Sometimes she was there. Sometimes she was so wasted that she might as well not have been there.
But it had been the better part of half a year since I’d been around. The weeds that had been nearly knee-high the last time I’d been around were all dead and fallen over.
The back window that had been busted by one of her charming boyfriends was still broken, covered by plastic wrap that was slit in the center, so the plastic was dancing a bit in the slight breeze.
Was it risky as fuck to put that much money worth of drugs in the home of an addict?
Yeah.
Of course.
Even though heroin wasn’t her poison, the money it could fetch would buy her a shitton of her personal life-ruining shit.