Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
What the fuck…?
Did she just call the possibility of sex with me a potential disappointment?
As in, she lumped me in with all the limp-dicked assholes she’s had sex with?
I realize I’ve loosened my hold on her, because she steps away, hopping over the bloody mess. “Let me know when you want that so we can get it over with.”
And then she leaves, all but running away while gripping the strap of her backpack.
Get it over with.
That’s what she said, right?
Like it’s a fucking chore?
I tilt my head to the side, staring at the man’s dead eyes and wondering why the fuck I’m not countering Violet’s insolence with the same actions.
10
JUDE
“Fuck yes!” Preston shouts, standing up and dancing mockingly while waggling his brows.
The game controller dangles from his hand before he throws it on the table and lounges back on the sofa, taking a sip of beer.
We’re chilling in my penthouse, on the farthest side of Ravenswood Hill—an exclusive gated community up the hill that overlooks Graystone Ridge, where founding members live.
It’s shadowed by trees and has iron-clad security that forces anyone with a wish to survive to stay away.
The place I live in is sparse with little to no furniture. The only reason I have a sofa, TV, and a gaming console is because Preston brought them over. Or the men he sent did. At seven in the fucking morning the day after I moved in.
That was a few months ago, following my mother’s death. I had no plan to continue living with Regis in that large, unfeeling Callahan mansion he calls home.
“My Highness would be open to teaching you some skills, peasant.” Preston leans back against the sofa, grinning at me with that provocative edge. “All you have to do is get on your knees, call me Master, and beg.”
“Says the loser who demanded we keep playing until you win.”
“Never happened. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He passes me the bottle of beer and I take a sip, throwing down my game controller as the score is displayed on the screen.
Pres has been here since last night. When I came back from a run, I found him sleeping on the couch, upside down, with the TV playing some Tom and Jerry cartoon. He loves crashing here most of the time since he has furniture and essentials here and can get a good night’s sleep. Though we both prefer to barge into Kane’s space and make him cook for us, that weirdo loves working out on his days off, while Preston and I love doing nothing.
Actually, we prefer maiming people to doing nothing.
“Besides—” He kicks my side. “—you should let me win after you took away my kill the other day.”
“It wasn’t your kill. He was my target.”
“What’s yours is mine, and what’s mine is also mine.” He snatches the bottle of beer. “Where the fuck did you take that loser anyway?”
“To one of the safe houses.”
“Aw, and I wasn’t invited? I’m so fucking offended right now.”
Thinking about the mess from about a week ago, Preston would’ve just been the last straw of chaos.
I haven’t been going to Violet’s workplace or neighborhood, but Mario has, and he said everything looks ‘normal.’ That guy needs to be specific about what’s considered normal.
Or I can go and watch personally, but even I realize I need to stop getting fucking distracted by a nobody.
A nobody who said I’d be a disappointing fuck.
Not entirely, but it was something along those lines.
“Hey, Pres?”
“Nah, I won’t accept your apology.”
“That’s not it.”
“Might consider it if you let me kill the next…five targets.”
“No.”
“I’m being generous here. Okay, four. Final offer. Cross my heart and never die.”
“It’s cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I meant it the other way. Don’t be boring.”
“Just shut up for a second. I have a question.” I tilt my head in his direction. “What vibes do I give when it comes to sex?”
“Eh…thought of asking your fuck buddies?”
“They say I’m hot and would let me bend them in two.”
“Ew. Cringe.”
What the fuck? “I am cringe?”
“Sometimes. But I was talking about the girls who are desperate to get your D. They should try mine. Just saying.”
“So you wouldn’t say the girls who want to fuck me expect disappointment?”
Preston stares at me with one narrowed eye. “Disappointment? Who have you been hanging out with? Need names, addresses, social security numbers, and actual phone numbers because, fuck me, you look offended. Shit’s interesting.”
“Fuck off.” I shove his face away with a throw pillow, then stand up. “Let’s go to Kane’s for food.”
It’s supposed to be our day off, but he won’t mind us pestering him to cook. Though, he’ll spend the whole time talking bullshit about strength training and all that jazz. The guy doesn’t know how to just chill.
Not that I’m any better, but I don’t need a lot of technicalities to prepare for the hockey season or win my games. I just do, with the help of some violence.