Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
“So, something came up. Something big, and I might need some looking into it.”
Gerard grunts. “Sounds right up my alley. What’s up?”
“You know the cinnamon bun shack on the pier?”
“Buns Out?!” Gerard hisses. “Uh, yeah, bro, I know it. And it’s all over the fucking news right now.” It clicks for him why I’m calling, and he swears. “Oh shit, West. Were you a fucking part of that?”
“No,” I growl. Then I frown. “Well, I mean, yeah, but not what you think. I was doing a job there for my Gramps when they showed up.”
“Holy shit, West,” Gerard groans. “News is saying eyewitnesses saw guys with automatics just unloading into the place from the pier. Are you whole?”
“Yeah, thanks man,” I mutter. “What’s the news saying?”
“That all the shooters got away but one who was passed out cold when the cops finally showed up.”
I smile thinly. “Yeah, I clocked the first one when he pulled a gun on the shack employee.”
Gerard chuckles. “Good man. But the news is saying the poor girl working there is missing. It’s all over my police scanner, too. Cops think she might’ve been kidnapped, and there are witnesses saying they saw a guy dragging her to a beat-up old pickup…”
Gerard trials off and then swears. “Aw fuck, man. Please tell me I’ve got this wrong.”
I wince. “Yeah, so, about that.”
“Aw hell, man!” Gerard groans. “What did you do?”
“I had to,” I snarl.” Gerard, she was in danger.”
“So you call the cops, man!”
“No time,” I shake my head. “They were mowing the place down with full auto rifles, man. I had to act. And also…” I sigh. “Dude, this didn’t smell right. At all. Four heavily armed guys, shooting up a fuckin’ cinnamon bun stand? For what? The place has like, what, three grand cash at any given point? An armed robbery in broad daylight for three grand? Split four or five ways? There are some dumb criminals out there, but this is beyond fucking stupid.”
Gerard growls quietly. “Shit. I hear what you’re saying, man. That doesn’t click right.” He sighs. “So you’re safe now? Your place, I assume?”
“Yeah.”
“And the girl?”
“Yep.”
He whistles under his breath. “You gotta tell the cops man. It’s a matter of time before someone makes your truck and they think you kidnapped her.”
I nod. “Yeah, I know. Just gotta figure out the best way to approach that. I’m not sure I’m okay with bringing her out in public, even to the police station, bud. I mean it was as if they were a hit squad after her.”
My friend grunts. “You know what? I’m gonna do you a solid. My buddy Bear is with the force. Let me make the call first, ease him into it, then he can call you direct and smooth it out when you give him all the details.
My shoulders loosen a little of the tension I’ve been carrying. “I owe you, man.”
“I’ll look into the Buns Out connection, too. You’re right, that shit doesn’t check out at all. I’ll call you back ASAP.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“Take it easy, West.”
I hang up and open the door to my room. I look through the small house and grin when my eyes take in the sight of Taylor out on my balcony porch. She’s leaning against the railing, her long blonde hair whipping in the sea breeze.
I step out and pause at the half-open sliding door to the porch. My smile widens as I take it all in. God, she’s perfect, and this view is perfect too. Her, in my house, on my porch, looking sexy as hell with the ocean swelling past her.
It’s like a glimpse of what could be, too. I know, I know—I don’t even really know this girl. But I know what I feel, and I know how she makes me feel. I know she’s young, but hell, I look at her and I see the future I’ve always dreamed about. I look at her and see the life I’ve always wanted.
She’s on the phone, and I watch her say something before she hangs up. She sees me out of the corner of her eye and turns to smile at me.
“Everything okay?”
I nod. “Yeah, just making some calls about earlier.” I purposefully don’t say “the shooting” or anything like that, even though she obviously knows what I mean.
She nods. “That was my parents,” she smiles wryly. “They’re in Vancouver, but I wanted to call them and tell them about everything and that I was okay before they saw it on the news.”
She shrugs. “We’re not that close, honestly. They’re a little older than most people’s parents, and I’ve always sort of been more of a roommate than a daughter to them. But I just told them I was okay and safe and all of that, and that the police were on it.”