Total pages in book: 17
Estimated words: 15444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 15444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 77(@200wpm)___ 62(@250wpm)___ 51(@300wpm)
I stand, tucking my dick away and pulling my pants back up, and storm over to the door. Yanking it open, I talk before Easton can.
“Get her some spare clothes before you tell me why the fuck you just interrupted us,” I demand, pinning him with a look to make sure he knows I’m not fucking asking, I’m telling.
He rolls his eyes but jogs off, appearing a minute later with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. We keep our safehouses stocked with spare shit in case of an emergency, thank God.
I close the door on Easton’s face, apologizing to Kacie as I hand her the clothes and gesture to the bathroom where she can clean up. She hurries off without a backward look, clutching the clothes to her chest.
I grumble as I return to Easton. Part of me wants to make sure Kacie’s okay but I also know she probably needs space right now. Besides, Easton undoubtedly has important shit to tell me. He wouldn’t have interrupted without good reason.
“What is it?” I snap the second I slip out, shutting the door behind me. Easton glances down at my stitches. I’m still shirtless because I’m not putting on that slashed and blood-stained top again. He grimaces, but there’s a sheen of admiration in his eyes as he admires the neat row of stitches.
“Hell of a lot better than any of us could’ve done,” he comments with a nod. I wait for him to get to the point, and he clears his throat before finally cutting to the chase. “Right, well, while you were getting fixed up in there, we received a rather interesting message from Rossi’s men.”
“The Italians? Haven’t they done enough fucking damage today?” I sneer, gesturing to the stab wound in my side as anger bubbles up in me. “What? They want another stab at me?”
Easton shakes his head at me. “No, they want a meeting.”
Out of all the things I thought he was going to tell me, that wasn’t on the list at all.
“A meeting?” I echo, skeptical. Given the feud we’ve got with Rossi and his rats at the moment, there’s hardly a lot of trust between our two sides.
“They’re sick of their men being hurt and put out of action and figured we might just feel the same sort of way.” Easton waves his hand through the air. “They wanna straighten this all out.”
I snort, crossing my arms over my chest. “Can’t see any way this could possibly go wrong.”
“Up to you, Boss, but…” Easton trails off, but the implication is obvious. But we might not have a choice. But saying ‘no’ might get us killed.
I run my hand down my face and nod once. “On our terms,” I state, needing to regain some ground and show that I’m not one to be pushed around like a pawn. “A week from now, in the old warehouse to the north at sunset.”
Easton nods sharply, deferring to my orders. He pulls out a burner phone and begins typing out a message, relaying my terms. Seconds later, confirmation comes through. Apprehension and a glint of hope swirl in my stomach. This could either go very well or very very wrong.
Before I have time to dwell on whether or not I’ve just made a huge fucking mistake in agreeing to meet with Rossi, a soft voice interrupts my thoughts.
“What’s going on?” Kacie asks, frowning at Easton and me. Somehow, she still manages to look put together and in control, even wearing borrowed clothes that don’t fit her.
“Nothing for you to worry over,” Easton tells her.
Immediately, the doctor scowls. If looks could kill, Easton would be nothing but a pile of smoking ash. A hint of surprise flits over his stern features, and I can’t help but laugh softly
“You just fucking kidnapped me from my work and you’re not even going to have the courtesy to tell me what’s happening here? I stitched him up from what was obviously a stab wound. Unless Kellan’s just really fucking clumsy in the kitchen, he didn’t stab himself,” Kacie snarls, and I swear Easton looks impressed at her fire. “So, if you want me to keep saving your asses instead of leaving you to bleed out when you trip while cooking, I suggest you tell me what the fuck is happening.”
Good God, I think I’m in love, I think with a smirk, her fire calling to me, the sass and bravery in her words turning me on all over again.
Easton holds his tongue, glancing at me for guidance.
“I’m keeping her,” I tell him, ignoring the shocked look on Kacie’s face when I say it, though she does look good with her mouth hanging open. “No harm in her knowing everything.”
Easton nods, and Kacie is about to say something in response to my comment, but I interrupt. I quickly explain the issues between us and the Rossi’s, and to her credit, Kacie doesn’t seem all that surprised by the fact we’re fucking Mafia.