Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 26232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 131(@200wpm)___ 105(@250wpm)___ 87(@300wpm)
Rock’s gonna kill me slowly.
“She’s a dolphin, she’s a—”
“What the fuck are you doing, Rav?” Rock’s deadly calm voice cuts through my useless chanting.
Thank God I haven’t eaten yet, or I’d shit my pants.
“Nothing.” I open my eyes and distance myself from the door.
Rock frowns as his piercing gaze settles over me. “You okay?”
“Yup,” I answer, a few octaves higher than normal. “Peachy. Groovy. All good in the hood.”
Rock’s frown deepens. He adjusts the backpack slung over his shoulder. Christ, what are the chances he’s got a weapon in there? Will he beat me to death or just shoot me and be done with it? We’ve buried more than a few bodies together. Rock’s capable of digging a deep grave without breaking a sweat.
“Things look good outside and downstairs,” he says.
“Thanks.”
I gotta get out of here. No, if I run, it’ll look too obvious. Guilty or something.
Maybe change the subject? Or should I just confess and get it over with? If I tell him before Hope does, maybe he won’t kill me.
What do I say? “Your wife is smoking hot?” Nope, that’ll definitely get me killed.
Is there any chance Hope won’t tell him that I walked in on her? Nah, I did more than walk in on her. I stood there and stared like a fucking creep. Took in every inch my stupid, greedy eyes dared. I’m so dead.
“Where’s the baby?” I curl my arms together and swing them from side to side in front of me in case Rock has no idea what I mean by baby. Jesus, this just keeps getting worse.
He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Downstairs with Heidi and Murphy. Hope came up here to change into her other costume.”
“Oh,” I squeak like a preteen whose balls haven’t dropped yet. “Cool. Cool.”
Keeping my back to the wall, I slide a few feet away from Rock. “I, uh, gotta get downstairs now.” Maybe flee the country.
Rock’s piercing gray eyes stab me all the way to the staircase.
I grip the banister. Safety’s a few skips away.
The scrape of a key in the lock reaches me. I hesitate and turn my head. Rock has his hand curled around the knob.
“Hey, Prez?” I call out.
He turns and our eyes meet.
“I’m really glad you guys came to the party.” I flash him a thumbs-up. “and you’re a very lucky man.”
His eyes widen. He pauses, then takes a step toward me.
I run down the stairs like death’s hot on my ass.
CHAPTER TEN
Rock
The urge to chase Ravage down and choke some answers out of him takes a back seat to my concern for Hope.
I turn the knob and step into “our room” at the new clubhouse. Sparsely furnished—I’d told Rav I really didn’t give a fuck what was in here—but clean, it vaguely smells like pine air freshener.
Light spills under the bathroom door to my right. I tap my knuckles against the hollow wood.
“Rock?” Hope’s timid question sparks my anger. I’m going to kill Rav. I don’t know why yet, but he’s definitely dead.
“It’s me.”
The door opens. A curtain of wet hair clings to her shoulders and falls down her back. In her hand, she’s toying with a large hair clip. A towel’s tightly wrapped over her breasts. My gaze travels over her. She’s so damn beautiful, for a second I forget about the weird encounter with Ravage. My fingers tingle with the urge to rip the towel out of my way.
Then I take in the bright red of her squeaky-clean skin. The flush runs from her chest to her forehead. More than the pink she gets from a hot shower.
“What happened?” I ask.
“Ugh.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to tell you.”
She seems more embarrassed than upset. “Why?”
“I don’t want you to kill Ravage.”
“I’ll decide if he needs to die or not.” I lift my hand, wiggling my fingers in a “give me the facts” gesture.
She grabs her comb off the sink and pushes past me into the bedroom, softly padding to the door and checking that it’s locked. Satisfied no one will bust in, she perches on the edge of the bed and runs the comb through her hair. The towel gaps at the side, giving me a clear view up to her hip.
“Nothing. It’s stupid,” she says. “Rav must’ve thought the room was empty. He walked in when I got out of the shower—”
“He what?”
“Not like that.” She waves her comb toward the bathroom. “I had my towel on but jeez, they really skimped on the towels for the clubhouse. This thing barely covers my boobs.”
“Still too much fabric for my taste,” I growl. “Or not. Continue.”
“That’s it. I think he was as shocked as I was. We stood there staring at each other.” She flicks the comb through her hair even faster. “He’ll probably go tell the other guys all about my gross mom body.”