Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Anything for you, sweetie.” Jasper batted his eyelashes.
My brows rose.
Jasper and Gunner, otherwise known as Hush and Jinx, I knew the least.
I’d only known them since I’d gotten out, and though I liked them both a lot, we still didn’t have the same bond that I had with the older members.
After today, though, that would likely not be the case.
“You stay practically silent for the entire time that I’ve known you, and you call me ‘sweetie’ because my sister does?” I asked.
Hush shrugged, but didn’t say anything else.
I rolled my eyes, then gave them the lowdown on what was about to happen.
“You don’t think he’ll come out of his room?” Jasper asked.
“Baker’s dad, Shad, says that he keeps the door closed when he’s gaming. He doesn’t come out to even eat or piss. He has a fridge in there, with a bathroom. So he has no reason to,” I explained.
“Sounds like a great man,” Gunner grumbled.
I grinned and said sarcastically, “Shad really loves him.”
“Let’s do this.”
We had the whole place emptied in a matter of thirty minutes.
Four trailers were fully loaded, and one was loaded with only what we thought would be essential for a mother and a baby.
After giving the guys the name of the storage place, I stayed long enough to prop my phone up against the far window.
Opening the front door, I stood in the opening and rang the doorbell over and over again until the dumbass in his playroom came out looking pissed and bothered.
He froze when he saw me.
He started looking around, and his eyes took everything in before he blew up. “What are you doing in my house?”
“Moving your ex-fiancée out,” I answered. “Now, I want to say a few things to you…”
Five
Don’t ask me for relationship advice. I went back to the same man fifteen times.
—Baker’s secret thoughts
BAKER
I was nervous, and I didn’t know why.
I was also hella afraid to touch anything.
I’d never been in a place so fancy.
I might have turned all the way around had the doorman not stopped me from leaving with a sweet sounding, “Ma’am? Are you Ms. Ritter? Shad’s daughter?”
The way he said ‘Shad’ had me thinking that this man knew who my dad was, and that I was in the exact place that I was supposed to be.
But still.
This place…
I stared out at the view.
I’d never been in a high rise in the middle of downtown Dallas before, and to be completely truthful, I hadn’t really expected to ever be.
But, now that I was, I wondered if I could afford a place like this.
Which was why I was on Zillow snooping on the man’s address, trying to find the man’s apartment, trying to distract myself from the fact that I was in some strange man’s home that was a felon.
I’d just found a neighbor’s apartment, with a view similar to Copper’s, when my dad called.
Pressing the green phone icon to answer it, I looked down at Holt, who was still fast asleep for once on the couch beside me and stood up extremely carefully.
I knew that noise and the like was good for babies, but I’d found that it wasn’t good for me.
It was actually detrimental.
Then again, maybe what was detrimental was the way that Joey would scream like he was actually dying in real life, instead of on some game.
Since he was used to me answering the phone like that, Dad didn’t complain when it took me a whole minute to get to the exact opposite end of the house from where I was standing to say hello.
“Hey, pumpkin,” Dad said quietly, matching my energy. “You doing okay?”
I looked around the bare bedroom that literally had not one single ounce of furniture in it, and said quietly, “I’m okay.”
“How’d leavin’ go?” he asked carefully.
“Fine,” I answered. “Joey never even came out of his gaming room. Not that I expected him to. He never does until he’s either out of water or about to come to bed. And seeing as it’s not nearly three in the morning yet, I imagine that he hasn’t even noticed I’m gone yet.”
“Oh, he’s noticed,” Dad said with a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m sending you a video. Watch it then call me back.”
I hung up with him, then clicked on the video that he’d sent.
The view was of my—not mine any longer—living room.
There was a large man standing just to the right of where the phone was facing, and all I could see of the man was the left side of his arm—which was flooded with color from a plethora of different types of tattoos—a black t-shirt, and just the very side of a leather cut that I knew to be a Truth Tellers MC club cut.
He had his hand out the gap of the open front door, and soon I knew why as the sound of the doorbell rang and rang and rang.