Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“Somebody has to. And I’ve got nothing better to do with my day. Get in.”
5
What was wrong with him?
He had nothing better to do? There was plenty he could be doing, including making sure that Malina didn’t mess up his menu.
Instead, as soon as she’d gotten to work, he’d headed out with Chip. Hmm, that name was growing on him.
For some reason he’d been unable to sleep last night worrying about Opal and the security light.
So here he was, driving to her place.
He glanced over at her. She was wearing another pair of tight jeans. These ones had a strip of sparkly silver material down the side of each leg.
And damned if he didn’t like that.
Her blonde hair was still teased high, he doubted it moved much with how much hairspray she had to use. And she had on a long-sleeved gray shirt with silver domes and sparkles along the collar.
So yeah, he was replacing her light today because otherwise he might not be able to sleep again tonight. And if he didn’t get his sleep, he turned into a complete asshole.
More than usual.
“Have you always dressed like that?” he asked, needing to break the silence.
But he could tell it was the wrong thing to say when she stiffened.
“Like what? Like a whore?” she asked.
He drove his truck to the side of the road immediately. Luckily, they were on a quiet street and there was no one else around. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turned to her.
“Who the fuck called you a whore?” he roared.
Opal’s pale blue eyes were wide as she gaped at him, her mouth slightly open. She was wearing a dark purple lipstick today. His favorite was the red one she’d had on last night. But he didn’t have time to linger on her lipstick.
Instead he had someone to murder.
“Well?”
She swallowed.
Stop it, asshole. You’re scaring her.
“You’re scared of me.” He’d meant to phrase it as a question, but it came out sounding like an accusation.
“I . . . what? No, I’m not.”
“No? Then why do you look like you are? Thought I made it clear last night that I’d never hurt you.”
“Well, you did just pull the truck over, unbuckle, and then yell at me.”
“I wasn’t yelling at you,” he explained, seeing where the confusion was. “I was yelling at whoever called you a whore.”
“You were yelling at someone you don’t even know?”
“Well, I’m gonna know them real soon. My fist is gonna know their nose and my knee is gonna know their balls. And then I’m gonna be personally acquainted with their dick when I smash it with my foot.”
“That’s . . . really . . . nice.”
Nice?
That was not the word he’d expected her to say. “I think we established that I’m not nice, girl. Now, tell me who said that so I can go take care of them.”
“But it is nice. It might be the nicest offer I’ve had in a long time. I don’t think anyone has ever offered to do something like that for me.”
He grunted. “Name.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Why the hell not?” he demanded, not liking that.
Did she think he wouldn’t do it? Because he damn well would. He tightened his hands into fists.
“Because it would take you too long to work through the list,” she said quietly.
Those words hit him like a stab to the heart.
What the fuck?
Who was she hanging out with that she had a list of people who would say something like that to her?
“Opal,” he said quietly. He could hear the pain in his voice.
She was staring out the front windscreen. “Heard it for the first time when I was five. It was what some guy called my mama as we were walking along the street. He drove past and yelled it out the car window.”
“Fucking bastard,” he snarled. “Wish I knew who that was.”
“Why?”
“Why?” he asked incredulous. “Because I’d fucking end them.”
“You’re very bloodthirsty, aren’t you? You didn’t even know my mom.”
“Not mad on behalf of your mom,” he told her. “Well, I am. Because no woman should be called that. But I’m fucking furious that you heard some bastard yell that at your mom.”
He was upset for her?
Opal wasn’t used to people getting so upset on her behalf.
“Anyone calls you anything like that, makes you feel bad, hell, gives you a funny look or makes your skin itch and crawl, you tell me.”
She raised her eyebrows. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need anyone to fight my fights. Or replace my security light.”
“Yeah? You don’t get tired of having to do everything yourself?”
Tired?
She was fucking exhausted. All the time. Sometimes it felt like she was more tired when she woke up than she had been when she went to sleep.
But she’d rather be tired than disappointed. To be let down. To be heartbroken.