Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
She shakes her head viciously. Her short red hair slapping her in the face. “Nope. You can love someone and still not be at their beck and call.”
“Oh, really?” Haven places her hands on her hips. “Like you are with Trenton?”
Jasmine opens her mouth but then shuts it. “I know. It sucks being addicted to dick.” She pouts, making us laugh.
“Yeah, well ….” My voice trails off as I spot a guy at the bar from across the dance floor. He has his back to us, dressed in a black leather jacket with dark jeans and black boots.
“What is it?” Jasmine asks, but I ignore her.
I can’t take my eyes off him. He turns to the side, giving me a profile view, and my breath gets caught in my lungs. He leans his arm up against the bar and smiles at the brunette who looks half his age. Reaching his left hand out, he takes a lock of her hair in his fingers and twirls it around like he’s flirting.
“What are you looking at?” I hear Haven ask.
“I think she’s off in la-la land,” I hear Jasmine speak.
I ignore them both even though she’s not far off. I think I’m in the twilight zone. It can’t be …
I get out of the booth and ignore them as they call out my name. Making my way across the dance floor, I’m bumping into bodies. Some even cuss at me, but I ignore them.
Walking up to the man, I shove the girl out of my way into a guy who stands behind her. Placing myself in front of the man, his eyes meet mine. My heart begins to pound as recognition shows in his.
“Emilee?” He gasps.
I blink. Trying to count the drinks I’ve had in my head. I have to be imagining this. “Dad?” I choke out.
I expect him to hug me. To show some kind of excitement that I’m standing in front of him. My mind is racing as fast as my heart, trying to process what I’m seeing. The lights are flashing and the music is so loud the floor shakes with the bass. I blink again, thinking he’ll disappear. That maybe someone had slipped something into my drink. I lick my numbing lips. “What are you …?”
He grabs my upper arm. His fingers dig into my skin as he drags me through the crowd. I don’t try to stop him. Soon, we’re barging through an exit door, and he’s yanking me through a parking lot. The night air hot on my sweaty skin.
I see a red Ferrari. He opens the passenger side door and shoves me into it, then runs around the front, gets in, and starts it.
“Dad?” My voice breaks with emotion. “I don’t understand. What are you …?”
“Not right now.” He throws it into gear and takes off, squealing the tires.
I sit back and take in the red interior and lit up dash. My hands are sweaty, and I rub them on my bare legs, regretting the mini dress I wore out tonight.
Looking over my shoulder, I realize he’s getting on the highway. “Dad, where are we going?” I ask, getting nervous. I was in shock that he was there. Alive. “You’re dead,” I tell myself more than him. “I’m hallucinating. Dreaming,” I say more to myself. I’ve fallen asleep, and the girls and I never even left the hotel suite.
“I’m very much alive,” he growls. He’s mad at me.
“I don’t understand. What …?”
“We will not discuss this right now!” he snaps.
“Where are we going?” I ask again, digging in my clutch for my phone.
“To the airport. I have a jet there. It will take you back to Vegas.”
“What?” I shriek. “I can’t go back. Everyone is here.”
He quickly slides his eyes over to mine before going back to the road. “Who the fuck is everyone?”
I lick my lips nervously but answer. “The Kings.” Then I remember that only two of them are here. Not all of them.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“They can help you,” I add quickly. “Whatever is going on.” I remember that he had owed a million dollars to someone. I don’t know if they ever told me who it was. A loan shark or something. Fuck, my mind is too foggy right now. What was that guy’s name? Didn’t he have like six weeks to pay it back? How long ago was that?
“No they can’t,” he argues.
“They can. I promise they will.”
“The Kings don’t help anyone but themselves.”
I don’t like how he spits out his words. Or the fact that he’s lied to me. “You don’t know them!” I shout.
“You’re going back to Vegas to be with your mother,” he grinds out, switching lanes.
My heart skips a beat. Now I know I’m dreaming. “My mother is dead,” I say, looking out the small window. “George is gone. And I burned down the house you built her.” Might as well tell the ghost of my dad everything. Dead loved ones do that, right? Visit you in your dreams?