Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71632 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“It’s the biker club that one of the members is with Scarlett Belle! You remember reading about that?”
Chantelle’s hand flies to her mouth, and she screams behind it. “No. Freaking. Way!”
“Way!” I chirp. “I kid you not. He was there, and let me tell you, he’s as hot in person as he was on television.”
“Oh, my god! Why didn’t I pretend I was a maid! I need to meet these bikers. I need to know more. I need to know all of it! And, most importantly, I need, like desperately, to meet Scarlett Belle.”
“That’s what I said.” I grin.
“So, tell me the most important part.” She shifts so she’s directly facing me. She places her hands on my knees. “Did you get the job?”
I grin, huge, and nod. “I did!”
“Oh, my god! Oh. This is the best day ever. My best friend is going to be living with hot bikers. Hot. Bikers. And I’m going to get to meet Scarlett Belle. I can’t even right now.”
“I know.” I laugh. “I’m super excited and the pay is excellent. And do not even get me started on the house, Chan. It’s massive. I can’t believe this is happening!”
She claps her hands. “I knew that newspaper fell into my hands for a reason. I knew it! When do you start?”
“Well, I’m going to trial it for a month before I move out of this place and live there permanently. I told him I didn’t want to give up my apartment until I was confident we could work together. He was fine with that. I’ll stay here Mondays and Tuesdays and then stay at the house the rest of the time. Those two days I just have to do basics, the other days I’ll work there, doing things for him, but he’s flexible. He said if I do everything needed then I’m free to go and do whatever I want.”
“That’s awesome,” she beams. “This is amazing.”
I nod, then I lose my smile just a little. “What do you think Enzo is going to think about it?”
Enzo.
The man I can’t get over. The man my heart throbs for. The man I know I should despise. I despise my sister for sleeping with him, so why in the hell can’t I hate him? Because I love him? Because I can rationalize it? I don’t know, all I know is that I’m unable to stop my feelings, and that makes me feel pathetic, insecure, and weak. More than anything, I just want answers from him.
But he is so angry at me.
So angry.
And I don’t know how to get around that. What he did was awful; what I did was worse. I knew he was in trouble with the cops for selling drugs, and I gave them the information in a hot rage that got him locked up for six months. Sure, it isn’t life in prison, but it was enough to get him behind bars.
All because I was hurt.
And now my sister is out there, still skipping around with her nose stuck up in the air, and I’m still here, hurting, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do to fix this mess.
Chantelle’s face scrunches up. “You’re my best friend, Sas, and I adore you but, honestly, screw Enzo. I know you want to pay off his debt so when he gets out he’s fully free, but the fact of the matter is, he screwed Yolanda right under your nose, and didn’t give a shit when you found out.”
“That’s not entirely true, I’m still not sure he actually knew—”
“No, bullshit, no,” she cuts me off. “He played it off, made you feel bad for reacting, made you question yourself, but the fact of the matter is he did it. He chose to do it.”
“But—”
“No, no buts. Stop making excuses. I know what you’re thinking, but you also know he knows better. He knows you. He made a choice. And now he’s fuming because you dobbed him in. I would have done a whole lot worse. He’s in prison, it won’t hurt him, he was getting involved in risky business, it’s not a bad thing he got locked up. As for you paying off his drug debt so he can come out clean, I don’t agree, but I also know you’re headstrong and are going to do it anyway. But I don’t think he deserves it. I don’t think he deserves you.”
She’s right. Of course she’s right. He doesn’t deserve me. But, once again, my stupid heart has other ideas. Maybe I’ll never forgive him or this brutal hurt will never go away, but I need to do the right thing for myself. And I believe the right thing is making up for what I did. So, that’s what I’m going to do. Pay the money, and when he gets out in five months, it can be with a clean slate. What he does after that I guess is on him.