Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“I mean, I guess I’m not against ripping out something old and refurbishing it into something new,” I muse.
“Yeah, and I can help. Like, not with the labor side of things, but, you know, with advertising and bringing in customers for a grand opening. Your girl here has over one hundred thousand followers. We can really blow some shit up. Plus, you have a hottie boyfriend who’s dealt with renovating heaps of places. You can’t possibly fail!”
I laugh and take an appreciative sip of my wine. Who would have thought six months ago I’d be here, with what feels like my first genuine friend, scrolling through real estate in New York, and with a hot as fuck boyfriend.
Daphne giggles at the bartender as they continue to talk. Apparently, they used to go to the same high school. And who isn’t a sucker for the idea of a second chance? Although, supposedly, he used to be the nerdy type and has clearly had a serious glow-up.
“I’m finishing up now, but maybe if you’re not busy later, I can take you for dinner?” he asks her hopefully.
I bite back a smile as I take a sip of my drink. He’s obviously been listening in on my conversation and knows I’m meeting with my parents later. It’s their last night here, and Crue and Rya are returning to join us. It will be round two for Dawson and my father to try not to kill each other.
“You can have her now if you’d like.” I interrupt them as they exchange numbers and potential meet-up times.
Daphne looks at me over her shoulder. “Are you sure?”
I smile at her and see the thank you in her gaze. “Dawson is supposed to meet me here in the next hour or so, and I’m busy starting an empire,” I joke, but I love how those words sound. If it goes well, I could franchise, maybe? Or am I getting ahead of myself?
“Yeah, that’d be cool,” he says eagerly. “Let me just punch out.”
“Oh my God, do I look cute?” she asks, and I roll my eyes.
“You’re always beautiful. But no sex on the first date,” I tell her.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Why stop a good thing now? You might be locked down, but I am not.”
I laugh and wave her off. She downs her Long Island iced tea and meets him at the entrance.
I pick up my phone, surprised that Dawson hasn’t responded to my earlier photograph. I’d sent him a pic as I explored the anal beads again this morning by myself. Usually, I receive an immediate response.
I try my hardest to push away the sinking feeling in my stomach.
I’m just being paranoid.
CHAPTER 53
Dawson
Istep out of my car, adjusting my suit.
Onlookers are watching me.
Half of them most likely fucked-up on God only knows what substance. I hate it here. I fucking hate every single thing about it. This place is where people come to die. Whether they take their own life or someone else takes it for them. And I can’t even pity them. Not when the scum that live in these parts were so happy to throw a fifteen-year-old into prostitution for a few dollars.
I tell Henry to wait in the car. He insists on following me, but I quickly deny him. He’s not the violent type. Though, with his skill set, I’m sure he’s had to fish through graphic images and videos, it’s very different from watching cold-blooded murder take place firsthand in front of your eyes.
My gun sits comfortably within my suit. And in a place like this, it will go unnoticed. Easily forgotten and removed, just as I had been. I step through the overgrown grass to a door that hangs off its hinges.
Last night, Honey offered me a moment of reprieve. But I couldn’t rest, even with her in my arms. I meant what I said last night. I will marry her one day. I’m not a good man. Or at my true core, even an attractive one. But I will never let her be at risk.
Confronting Timothy like this has brought back memories of what we’d endured together, and although I don’t know his motives, I don’t care.
The two stairs creak as I walk up them. I’ve already called Crue to arrange a clean-up once this is done.
The partially open door lets a horrendous smell waft through. I choke on it, lifting my arm to my nose. I peek inside to see a small box on the floor with a half-eaten bowl of cereal on top of it, but I don’t hear anything.
I carefully open the door wider on its one hinge, and the horrendous odor bombards me. What the fuck is that?
I peer into the cereal bowl, which appears to be only a few hours old. I walk around the small home. It’s chaos. Litter. Rodents. The furniture torn and broken. I raise my gun as I step into the back bedroom. The edge of a mattress on the floor is visible, and I push open the door.