Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“You mean like you did when you kidnapped your old lady from her bedroom just to fuck with her father?” Nitro says with a snort.
I’m pretty sure the only thing keeping King from kicking his ass is how loud Eagle-eye and Viking laugh.
Eagle-eye stands. “King, talk to Snark and have him watch the cops. They’ve got the fucking tapes, so if they so much as pass around a dirty joke I want to fucking hear about it. Viking, keep Alessa safe. If anything happens to her, we’re fucked. Wraith? You and your boys need to scrape your fucking brains to see if you remember anything, and bring that girl back in. It won’t take a genius to realize that if her car was there, so the fuck was she.”
6
KAYLEE
The doorbell rings as I sit at the computer redesigning my resume for the hundredth time and nibbling a cookie.
I’m not expecting a delivery, and not particularly in the mood to talk to anyone after the week I’ve had, so I ignore it.
My parents are both at work. When Mom found out I was nearly caught in the big gas station explosion two days ago, she gave me the rest of the week off. They don’t know the whole story, of course, but I came home looking like an extra in an action movie. They took one look at me and I had to say something. Especially since what’s left of my car is probably still smoking outside the station.
The whole day keeps running through my head, and it’s all tangled up together. My interview with three hot guys, nearly getting shot in what must have been a gang fight, and then nearly getting blown up. It was a little glimpse into a world I’ve never seen before. One where every day could be your last.
I know I wanted some more excitement in my life, but that was a bit too much, thanks. Too bad, because Wraith, Tank and Nitro? Even one of them would almost make it worth the risk.
News about the explosion and fire is all over TV, but they are saying it was a technical fault. Nobody’s mentioned anything about a shooting or bodies being found.
The bell rings again, and this time whoever it is really leans on it.
What the heck is so important? I glance over to the door, still thinking about those three hot bikers. It wouldn’t be them, right? But it could be.
Curious and more than a little hopeful, I close up my laptop and shuffle over to the front to peek out the window. Two police officers are standing on our porch, looking annoyed and impatient. One is right at the door, the other standing farther back with his arms crossed over his chest.
Oh crap. What should I do? Pretend not to be here? They have to be looking for me, because nothing ever happens in our neighborhood to bring out the cops aside from when Cal’s teens ride their ATVs through peoples’ lawns.
Are we going to have any problems? Eagle-eye’s question runs through my head. I bet he would definitely classify this as a problem.
The cop standing in the back catches sight of me behind the curtains. I jump out of the way, but the damage is done. They start pounding on the door. “Ma’am? Answer the door. We need to have a word.”
Double crap.
I ease open the door just enough to peek through. “Can I help you?”
The guy in front looks like a caricature of a cop. He has a jaw a superhero would be envious of, not a hair out of place, and a suit so stiff it looks like it could stand on its own. Right away it feels off. He’s trying too hard and just ends up looking very, very into his job. His partner seems slightly more relaxed, with a ruddy complexion, unruly red hair and a lopsided grin.
The redhead speaks first. “Kaylee Thompson?”
I look nervously between them, not wanting to give an inch if I don’t have to. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“I’m Officer Anderson and this is Detective Harris. May we come inside?”
Anything other than yes would be suspicious, so I let them in. “Sorry, I wasn’t exactly expecting company.” I gesture down at my sweats. “What’s this about?”
I hate lying, probably because I’m not any good at it. Even when I was little I never got away with anything. I gave my word that I wouldn’t say anything about what I saw, but lying to the police? This could be bad. Really bad.
“I’ll be brief, Ms. Thompson. A car registered to you has been found at the Red Kite service station. We’re still analyzing the security footage, but this would go faster if you could confirm that you were there at the time of the explosion. I’m sure the shock is why you haven’t been in touch yet,” Anderson gives me a patronizing smile.