Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
We walk through the protestors, and as Lyra and Hunter make their way through the door, I find myself pausing and glancing toward the colorful signs. “Hey,” I say to Hunter and Lyra. “Save me a seat.”
Hunter glances back. “Huh?”
I point toward one of the signs that’s been discarded on the ground. “I need to do my part for my community.”
He rolls his eyes and turns back, placing a hand at Lyra’s lower back to lead her through the door as I collect the sign that reads: Onyx Heights: voted safest city before your bitch ass showed up. I hold it high above my head and join the angry mob, waving my sign around as though we were from the 1800s chasing vampires with pitchforks and fire.
I join in with the chanting.
“OUR TOWN IS NOT A HUNTING GROUND.”
“OUR TOWN IS NOT A HUNTING GROUND.”
Fuck, I feel good about myself.
I don’t stop until I hear the mayor from inside the hall, calling for attention, and as if on cue, the forty or so people outside all put their signs down and start filing in through the door while patting each other on the back for a job well done.
I smile and nod as I’m congratulated. If only they knew.
“Thank you,” I say after being congratulated again. “Just trying to do what little I can to protect our city. A strong sense of community is what’s going to get us through this.” I fist pump the air. “OUR TOWN IS NOT A HUNTING GROUND.”
People cheer from all around and join in as the mayor hollers for us to calm down, but I slip away from the chaos to find Hunter and Lyra sitting near the back. I take my seat beside her and watch the mayor try to get the people under control, and by the time he does, I’m just about ready for a snack.
“You guys hungry?” I murmur, leaning toward Lyra.
Hunter stares at me. “You just ate two burgers and three servings of fries at that diner.”
“Hey, don’t discriminate. I’m a growing boy.”
Lyra rolls her eyes and shoves her hand into her bag before pulling out a bag of chips. “I knew this was going to happen,” she says. “Now, be a good boy, eat your snack, and keep your mouth shut. We need to get through this without either of you trying to murder anyone.”
Hunter scoffs. “It’s not us you should be worried about.”
Her brows pull down, not understanding what he’s referring to, but I smother the smirk that stretches across my lips. It’s Lyra who’s the problem tonight. Since the moment they started whispering about invoking a city-wide curfew, she’s been furious. Black Velvet does great during the daylight hours, but Friday and Saturday nights is where her profits are made, and a curfew is not going to bode well for that.
The meeting starts exactly how I expected—poorly. Every asshole with a mouth has an opinion, and everyone wants it heard. There are people yelling, people demanding a greater police presence, and after half an hour of insanity, nothing has been agreed upon.
Half the room wants increased police patrols. The other half wants security cameras. One guy suggests citizen patrols, which is a fantastic way to get Steve from accounting accidentally stabbed by a vigilante.
Eventually the mayor manages to regain control long enough to present the city with a temporary solution, which just happens to be the very solution that Lyra didn’t want.
A curfew.
The room immediately erupts with approval, and I understand their reasoning. If people aren’t out wandering the streets, then they can’t get killed. That’s not really how Hunter and I work, but I can appreciate their effort. We’re not just killing random people on the street. It’s a contract. Pre-planned and paid for in full. The curfew isn’t going to do anything to save someone if their name hits our list, but it’ll go a long way in making these people feel safe.
The room is still erupting when I feel Lyra stand beside me, and I let out a breath. Shit. There’s no way this is going to go well. And judging by the way Hunter discreetly closes his eyes and winces, he knows it too.
Lyra’s voice comes firm and loud, demanding the attention of everybody in the room. “Absolutely not.”
The entire room turns, and the mayor blinks, looking at her as though she’s the very reason we’re all here. “No?”
“You heard me. No,” she says as she gestures toward the crowd like she’s about to prosecute every single person present. “What about businesses? Restaurants? Bars? Clubs? Event venues? You know, the businesses that rely on people leaving their homes after dark. A curfew is all good and well for people who work a regular nine to five, but what about the other half of us? I own Black Velvet and have up to thirty employees working every night. Are all these people supposed to just not get paid because the local law enforcement have failed to do their jobs? Or will the city be paying their wages?”