 by KB Winters.jpg)
Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Communion, serving others, keeping my virtue intact.
A perfect little angel all of my life.
When I’m accused of a crime I didn’t commit, none of that matters.
My friends, my family, the church, they turned their backs.
So I run straight into the underworld of Glitz, NV.
And the big strong arms of Calvin Ashby.
He’s super rich, super smart and annoyingly attractive.
And this is where we get complicated.
He’s a criminal. A killer.
And I’m in love with him.
Warning: This book touches on addiction and abuse. It contains strong language and graphic violence.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Bonnie
People believed what they wanted to believe, and nobody wanted to believe me. Which explained why I was alone in a bar on a Friday night, feeling sorry for myself.
I was officially off the radar. Just another face in the crowd. My family, my friends, hell, even the church, had all deserted me. After all, who wanted to be associated with a killer?
It didn’t matter that I was innocent.
Who needed a judge? I’d already been tried and convicted by a juror of my peers. The ones who promised to love me. Be there for me. The people who should have known I wasn't capable of taking someone's life.
I downed the last of my gin and tonic and slammed the glass down on the counter, feeling the liquor burn its way down my throat. I wasn't ready to go home just yet, so I ordered another drink.
And tonight, like every night for the past week, I was one of them. Only my sins weren’t as interesting as the chick I watched getting finger banged up against the wall last night. Did I say everybody was watching? I’m sure they were, but nobody was as invested in the show as I was.
I wasn’t proud of it, but I was getting off on her pain. Her pleasure too, I guessed. But mostly her pain. Because that was what my life had become: a series of vicarious thrills because my own life was so damned boring.
I turned back and saw a girl sandwiched between two guys who felt her up on the dance floor. Though my parents and my priest would call it sinning, I could admit that she looked…blissful. Like she was having the time of her life. I wanted what she had. But I didn't know how to get it.
Tears welled up in my eyes, so I polished off my drink because there was no way I’d get lucky like the girl on the dance floor—or my best friend Maisie Nilsson. Who hadn’t texted me all week.
No, she had a super sexy gangster with a heart of gold. I had a drug-addicted, whoremongering dead boyfriend. I figured no one would come to my rescue, so I wiped a tear off my cheek and practically ran to the ladies’ room before I was accused of being a lush.
It was surprisingly quiet inside except for the low hum of a woman touching up her makeup at the full length mirror. I flashed a semi-friendly smile, enough to show I was no threat, but not so much she might feel the need to engage in friendly bathroom chatter.
Normally, manners would have forced me into casual small talk, but lately, I wasn’t too big on the things I’d been taught growing up. Not while I stared at my reflection in the shockingly unflattering lighting.
Tonight my reddish-orange hair had been tamed with a flat iron, at least as much as the thick waves wanted to be tamed. The color was still too bright for my pale, nearly porcelain skin.
My eyes were technically hazel but most days they were a lighter brown with a smattering of brown and yellow. Nothing spectacular, just too much of all the wrong stuff and not enough of the right stuff.
Story of my life. A sniff surprised me and the humming woman stopped in her careful lipstick application to look at me.
“He ain’t worth it, honey. They so rarely are.” She flashed a friendly smile to go with the hint of southern still in her accent. “Here, have some booger sugar and forget all about him. Maybe get under somebody else if you know what I’m sayin’.”
I’d have to be deaf and blind not to get what she was saying.
“What is it?” I suspected cocaine, but as Maisie was fond of reminding me, new drugs came out all the time.
“It’s just a little feel good powder, hon. Take a little bump like this.” The woman flicked her blonde waves off her shoulder, dumped a small pile of white powder on the back of her hand, lowered her nostril to it and inhaled it into oblivion. “Easy as.”
It did look easy, and the woman didn’t seem to be in any pain. Her face was beautiful, but her skin was clear and her eyes were as wide as her smile.
“I would like to feel better and alcohol doesn’t seem to be working,” I said hesitantly.
“Just like I did it. Go on,” she said with an encouraging smile. Suddenly I understood that not all peer pressure was like the PSA’s from school. Some of it was benign, barely even enough to be considered pressure.
This woman, just like the devil, came wrapped in a pretty package, bearing a smile rather than a sneer. And today I wanted—no I needed—what this beautiful devil was offering.
So I took it. Exactly like she did, taking a deep inhale until the powder disappeared up my nostril. Before I even let out my breath, I felt better. Warm and relaxed. Good. Like everything was right in the world.