Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I picked it up and threw it back.
“Is that Rian?” I asked, spotting him walking along the back of the bar, then going through the swinging door. “At work?”
“Yeah, Cillian hasn’t been around,” Syn said.
“Has anyone asked about that?”
“Asked what?” Syn asked.
“What’s going on with Cillian?”
The guys shrugged.
“Alright. I’m gonna go ask. Slash would want to know if something is up in town.”
It was the perfect excuse to get into the back of the bar. And closer to Lula.
“Be right back,” I told them, walking over to the side of the bar.
Casey, the new bartender who might have been of interest to me a few years ago—but she was too young, too green, too bouncy and naive for me—shot me a sideways look. “Casey, you sweet thing, I need to come back there.”
“You know the rules.”
“I’m not touching the booze. I just need to speak to Rian.”
She stiffened as she passed someone their drink then moved over to the gate. “About business?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t a lie; I was going to ask about Cillian.
“Okay. But don’t touch anything on your way past.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I’d only been in the back of The Bog a handful of times over the years and only once when it was open. People milled around. Glasses clanked. The air was heavy with steam from the dish pit.
I glanced to the left where I knew Lula’s office was located, but turned to the right where I knew I would find Rian.
He was sitting at his big brother’s desk, looking drained.
“It’s weird to work, huh?” I asked, leaning in the doorway.
His gaze flicked up as a deep breath escaped him.
“This shit is for the birds, man.”
“I bet. Is everything alright? Your brother? Business?”
“Far as I know, yeah. Cillian is just… busy with other shit. Not the kind of shit the club needs to worry about, if that’s why you’re here.”
“Okay. Good. Just checking. He’s good, though?”
“Yeah, he’s good,” Rian said as his phone dinged.
He lunged for it like a lifeline. It turned out it was one. “Oh, thank fuck.” At my raised brows, he shot me a smirk and got to his feet. “Conor is coming in to take over. I got something pretty and warm waiting for me to drop in.”
“Don’t let me keep you,” I said, moving out of the doorway and waving to the door.
He was quick to say his goodbyes.
And I was free of anyone seeing me walk across the back room toward Lula’s office, since the dishwasher had snuck out the back door to, I imagined, smoke, judging by the skunk scent I smelled as Rian pushed the door open.
I paused at the door, took a deep breath, grabbed the knob, then moved inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Lula
I was staring blankly at my screen, unable to focus as my mind reeled with possibility.
I had my money back.
Minus a few thousand dollars. Which was chump change in the grand scheme of things. Nothing I was going to stress myself out about.
I expected to feel a giant weight off my shoulders, but what I was overwhelmed with was planning—what I needed to do next, how I could pull off this plan without screwing anything up, without financially strapping myself.
I probably should have taken myself back to the motel to do my thinking. Especially since my work was done until the end of this shift to give me new numbers to play with. But I was on-salary. And the walls in my motel room felt filled to the brim with thoughts of Raff. Better to stay at work where I could at least distract myself.
But my door opened.
And almost as if I’d manifested him, there he was.
He looked a little rougher than usual—his hair messy, his shirt wrinkled, his stubble darkening his cheeks and chin, his eyes looking a little red.
But, God, he was still the best thing I’d ever seen.
“How’d you get back here?” I asked when my mouth remembered how to move.
“Casey isn’t exactly the best security in the world,” he said, moving inside, closing the door, then leaning back against it, crossing his arms like he was perfectly at ease. Even as my blood raced, my heart hammered, my stomach did somersaults.
“How… how are you back here so quickly?”
“Work was easy. And I did a fifteen-hour leg.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“It wasn’t the best time I’ve spent on the road. So, congratulations.”
“Thank you. I’m still almost a little afraid it’s not real. I keep checking my bank account and, sure enough, it’s still there.”
“How’s it feel?”
“Honestly? It’s a little overwhelming.”
“Because now you have to figure out how to invest the money to make it work for you, compound, then allow you to keep going and going.”
“Exactly.”
“Well. You start with one house, right? Then focus on the next. And the next. And you might have been working with a conman, but you did get legit plans written up, permits, supplies ordered…”