Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
“It’s more than I’ve had ever.” I flick at the curtains. “Never even had these, we had old sheets tacked to our windows to keep the sun out.”
“I tried to hang my Spiderman sheets to my window when I was a kid, Maybell ‘bout whooped my ass.”
I laugh lightly and move to drop on the mattress beside him.
“I don’t understand any of this, Royce. Don’t get why you guys go out of your way to have me around. Don’t know if I should go with it or fight it. Don’t know a damn thing.”
There’s a nagging in the back of my head telling me I’m missing something.
Royce’s hand comes down to grab mine and he lifts it.
I look to him.
“Don’t fight us. Stay.”
“Come downstairs.”
We both look to the doorway to see Maddoc standing there. His face is blank as it shifts from Royce to me and then he turns and walks away.
Royce stands. “I think I’ll place a bet.”
“What kind of bet?” I step in line with him and head down the stairs.
“On how long it’ll take before he jumps your bones.”
I scoff, whispering, “Not exactly convincing me to stay, Royce.”
“Who you kiddin’, RaeRae?” He puts his arm around my shoulder. “We both know you’re staying. No reason to not and you got shit to go back for.”
“How do you know? Maybe I have a secret love child I’m hiding away.”
Royce tenses lightly and a tight chuckle leaves him. “Funny, but a lie.”
The other two are sitting on the couch so we make our way over. I go to drop on the coffee table but stop halfway down and straighten again, making them laugh. “My bad.”
“You can sit on it, doubt your ninety-pound self could break it,” Captain says.
I go ahead and sit. “Far from ninety pounds, but thanks?”
Nobody says anything for a few seconds, and it gets awkward.
“Okay so...” I roll my wrist to get them talking so we can get this over with.
“That was your mom.”
“Wow, jumping right into it, huh?”
“Raven.”
I square my shoulders and look between the three. “Obviously, yes. That woman who doesn’t reflect a day over twenty-five and looks like she stepped straight off the set of Whores-R-Us, is my mother. Every dirty and used, cocaine infused inch of her.”
“Don’t get defensive. We only want to understand better. With your staying here, we need to know.”
“So you set me up to stay in your house in exchange for my life fucking story. Hard pass.”
“Look, this is a free fucking place for you to be. Nothing will be expected of you here as far as earning your keep and all that. But there will be a few things you need to agree to.”
“I don’t need a place to lay my head at night, big man. I lay where I land. Always have. Don’t sit there acting like you’re doing me a huge favor by sticking me in your tower.”
He completely ignores me. “Your mom. Why is she here? Maybell talked to social services, she wasn’t given the go-ahead to get you. She wasn’t even given your location. How did she find you?”
“I don’t know how she found me, and cleared to get me back or not, she wouldn’t try to. She never wanted me to begin with. I was a means to a monthly check.”
“And that check’s gone.”
“She’s inventive when it comes to money.”
“And when she can’t?”
“She’s a whore, Maddoc. She’s always up for a trade.”
He eyes me. “What’d she want, Raven?”
“Don’t. You want me to stay here? Fine, big man, I’ll stay, but only if you stop acting like you make the calls. We’re not on the court, I’m not your teammate and you’re not my captain. I’ll come and go as I please, do what I want and when, and if not, I leave. And if you’re thinking ‘bullshit’ remember ... you guys can’t be stuck to my hip at all times. You have practice, you have games, and you have your Brayshaw shit to handle, whatever that includes. If I decide to take off, it’ll be easy.” I shift to stand, but Maddoc does first.
He glares down at me. This guy has perfected the art of intimidation. Not unlike my mother, he uses his body to get what he wants – fear, fight ... frisky.
It’s all written in the way he moves, carved in those cavernous eyes of his.
He’s angry, but he doesn’t understand the source, so frustration is what lines his forehead in wrinkles, and irritation holds his lips firmly together.
Big man’s not used to whatever it is that’s going on inside him.
“You won’t fight. You won’t leave, and you won’t go near that woman again if one of us isn’t with you, mother or fucking not.” He snatches his keys off the side table and slams the front door on his exit.