Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Do I push her away?
Do I pull her in?
I slam my closed fist on the counter. My body shakes, my nails biting into my palm as I try to get a grip on reality. The sound of my cell phone ringing off in the distance pulls me from my manic thoughts.
I rush into my bedroom and pluck the device up off the dresser, pressing the answer key as soon as I see Damon’s name scroll across the screen.
“Hey. What’s up?” he chimes, his voice casual, cool, calm.
“Hey. You get my message?” I try to hide the anger in my voice.
“Yeah. What’s up?” He’s acting all nonchalant, and it’s only fucking with my temper more.
“I’m going to meet you at the warehouse tonight. I don’t want to talk about it over the phone,” I lie. When I ask Damon about Elyse, I need to look him in the eyes.
“Warehouse? Let's meet at Night Shift instead. I've got business to attend to there, so it will make it easier for both of us.” I don’t know how Elyse will feel about going to a strip club, but she’s just going to have to suck it up. If this is the only place Damon is willing to meet, so be it.
“Cool. See you there at ten.” I hang up the phone and turn to Elyse, curiously eyeing me from across the room. “Ever been to a strip club?” I ask, like I don’t already know the answer.
Chapter Sixteen
Elyse
“Ever been to a strip club?” Hero’s voice mocks in my head all day long. He’s cranky and irritable while he does everything he can to avoid me, which is pretty damn hard when we’re in the same house. I try to forget about my confession, forget about the feelings spiraling out of control inside me.
I force myself to remain in Hero’s bedroom most of the day, my books and homework sprawled out on his bed. I immerse myself in my studies so I don’t start crying—or worse, get into another argument with him.
I’m working on putting study guide cards together when Hero appears in the doorway with a paper plate in his hand.
He looks mouthwatering. His midnight black hair is disheveled, his eyes are a soft green instead of their usual dark green, and he’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt—a t-shirt that clings to his perfectly sculpted body.
“Hungry?” he asks gruffly.
I don’t say anything, even though my stomach has been grumbling for the last two hours. “Sure.” I shrug.
He walks into the bedroom, coming to a stop at the foot of the bed, his eyes moving over all the books and papers sitting on it. He pauses for a long time before extending the paper plate out to me.
I eye the contents of the plate curiously. A sandwich and a bag of chips.
“Sorry. I’m not much of a cook, and we don’t have a lot of time. A sandwich it is.”
I don’t complain, food is food. Plus, Hero made it. “It’s fine. Thank you.” I give him a sad smile and redirect my attention to my books. Having him this close makes my heart beat faster, saliva in my mouth pool, and ignites the fire in my belly.
He’s got a hold on me, and it consumes my every thought. The idea that this might be my last night here saddens me more than I care to let on. He’s pushing me away, weaseling distance between us slowly, and I miss him so much, it kills me.
I pick at the sandwich, my appetite evaporating into thin air. I want to cry. I want to slap him and knock the sense back into him. But it doesn’t matter. It won’t work. I think about my options, about the things my parents want from me, about what I want.
Hero interrupts my thoughts by pulling his phone out of his pocket. He looks at the screen for half a second, then shoves it back into his pocket, his eyes lifting to mine. “Hate to cut your eating short, but we’ve got to get going.”
I nod, swallowing the small bite of food still in my mouth. I stack my books up and close my notebook before moving off the bed. Then I look down at my clothes. “Is this okay to wear?” I ask.
Hero’s gaze sweeps over me. It’s possessive, hungry, and I’d bet anything if I touched him right now, he’d melt beneath my touch.
“It’s fine. We’re going for business, Elyse, not pleasure. Unless you’d like me to leave you there and you can work something out with Damon on your own.”
I blink, not sure what Damon has to do with all this. He says talking to Damon will help determine if someone is watching me, but I don’t understand how. Is he with the FBI? A private agent? Why is this guy so special? Then, it hits me. I never once figured out who that guy Hero was helping was…or the guy slumped over in the chair.