Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 326(@200wpm)___ 261(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Such as?” she pushed.
I contemplated telling her about my current work in progress for all of two seconds before I started spilling the beans.
“The particular crime I’m working on right now is pro-bono,” I explained. “It started out with a little kid having someone hack into his Xbox account. Then it turned into the kid’s mom’s card being stolen. Thousands of dollars being charged on it. Then from there, the guy stole the kid’s identity. Which sucked because it took them a while to realize what happened. The only reason they knew was the mom tried to get the kid—at fifteen—onto her credit card and they denied it because of how poor his credit was. Which was bullshit because a fifteen-year-old shouldn’t have any credit. So the mom goes looking, and this dude has taken out several loans, credit cards, and even has traffic violations under this kid’s name.”
“Please tell me you’re going to nail his ass to the wall.” She leaned forward, her eyes alight with anger. “My mom did that shit to me when I was fifteen myself. I think it’s even worse when it’s done by a parent, or someone you know. I am still working on getting my credit back to normal.”
Her head tilted and she stared with fire in her eyes.
Her green eyes weren’t really all that special. They reminded me of an Army green color that was the color of the dumpster outside my office building.
Which was funny, because every time I saw that damn dumpster, I thought about her eyes.
Not that I’d ever tell her that.
I wasn’t sure she would find it as humorous as I found it.
Then again, I found a lot of things humorous that I shouldn’t. Them’s the ways of ex-FBI agents that had seen and done too much.
“Your own mother stole your identity,” I said, unable to believe it.
She scrunched up her nose in the cutest little face I’d seen on her yet, then said, “Yep. I found it out when I went to buy a car at twenty. They told me that my credit was so horrible that there was no way in hell anyone would ever give me a loan. When I started digging around, I found out that my mom had multiple credit cards in my name, being sent to her address. When I confronted her, she gave me at least ten of the cards. I destroyed them, but ultimately nothing ever came of it. My mom paid all of them off eventually. So I have no debt. But all the late payments and such… I’m still doing everything I can to repair it.”
I wanted to take her mom by the throat and wring her neck.
I’d already disliked her for what she’d done when Banger had needed her most—leaving her when she was at her most vulnerable.
But now? Knowing that she’d ruined her own child’s credit to the point where she couldn’t even buy a car?
That was low.
“Anyway. I hope that you make the dude who did the identity theft pay. I never did with my mom, and I wish I had,” she murmured quietly.
I leaned into the bar a little more and said, “I’m going to make it to where this guy doesn’t ever breathe easy again.”
Banger’s smile grew just as she was summoned by her father.
We both looked over to see a smirking Mirabel leaning against the bar in front of her stepfather, Gareth, and Gareth looking irritated.
“Ruh-roh,” Banger grumbled.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m sure you’ll get the full story here in a sec.” She sighed as Gareth marched over.
“What is this crap that Mirabel is telling me about tip share? And you changing it?” he asked.
Banger crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking Gareth’s stance.
“Decided not to do tip share anymore.” Banger shrugged as if she made decisions like that all the time.
“Banger,” Banger’s father, said. “You can’t just decide not to do tip share anymore.”
She grumbled something under her breath. “I can, and I did. If you want me to keep working here, you’ll allow it. Because Mirabel complained one too many times. Who do you think shows up and works better, Dad? Her or me?”
Gareth grimaced. “You’re putting me in an awful position, baby.”
Banger’s arms crossed even tighter as she snapped at her dad. “And do you think that I fucking like walking in here, covering her ass, and doing her work for her? Then, for good measure, giving her a portion of my tips? Which I earn? No. I don’t freakin’ like it. In fact, I hate it. I hate Mirabel. I hate how she’s lazy and shows up when she wants to show up. I hate it even more that she came to you behind my back instead of bringing it to me. Because she knew that you would do something about it. Or try to. But I’m not dealing with her shit anymore. She’s my stepsister, yes. But she’s nothing to you. It’s time to make a choice.”