Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54059 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
He screams as blood explodes out of him. I let out a scream too as he stumbles back. I’m momentarily shocked by the amount of blood there is before I turn and run from his office, praying that no one tries to stop me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
NIKI
Andy’s not at the library when I arrive.
“The girl that’s so high”—I hold my hand up to my shoulder—“with chocolate-colored shiny hair and the doe eyes. She stop in today?”
“Doe eyes, hmmm?” says the librarian with a smirk on her face. “I know to whom you are referring, but no, she did not visit today.”
The corners of my mouth press down. That’s not like Andy. For as long as I’ve known her, she spends every afternoon at the library. Like clockwork. I give the librarian a chin nod of thanks before exiting. At the top of the stone stairs leading to the street, I stop and pull out my phone.
Where u at
I stare at my screen as if I can will a response, but I get nothing, not even the three gray dots. I flick to a new window and check her location. I’d tuned it in when I gave her the new phone. She’s closing in on her apartment. I stash my phone in my pocket and hoof it over there in record time. I take the stairs three at a time and pound on her door, out of breath.
“Who is it?” her voice yells from inside.
“Me. Niki.” I resist the urge to break down the door that I’d fixed once already If she was in danger, she’d say something. Wouldn’t she? Maybe she can’t. This place is tagged, but turf wars happen all the time. I step back, ready to put my boot through the door when it swings open to reveal a big-eyed Andy.
“Niki?”
I drop my leg to the ground and straighten my windbreaker. “Sorry. Thought there might be trouble.”
She gives me a faint, strained smile. “No trouble. Everything’s good.”
“You get your mom to the SRC place okay?”
“Yes, it went fine.” She moves aside so I can enter. Footsteps in the hall halt my progress, and I lean out of the doorway to see who is coming.
Andy tries to pull me inside. I tilt my head. “You scared of that person?”
“No. It’s—”
“Andy, where’s your momma?” a loud voice booms out. My girl sags against the wall.
I step out, arms loose at my side, weight balanced lightly on the balls of my feet, ready to fight. “You need something?”
“It’s my landlord.” Andy tugs at my arm. “It’s okay, Niki. I’ve got it handled. Give me another day and I’ll have your money,” she says to the short, stocky, balding man.
“You’re already late. If you can’t pay, you’ll have to move out. I don’t run a charity here.” He scratches his stomach while he gives me a once-over. When he’s done, he switches his attention back to Andy. “This one is trouble. Probably has a gang tat somewhere. You be careful, girl.” His fucking building is tagged by the Riders.
“It’s okay,” Andy says, and this time it’s to reassure her landlord that I’m not the danger here. How fucking ironic. “Really, I’ll have the money tomorrow.”
“How much does she owe you?”
“Two.”
I reach inside for the cash in my pocket and hand it over. ”Down payment until tomorrow. I’m good for it.” I pull up my sleeve so he can see the Rider tat.
The landlord scoffs. “Boy, no tattoo can take the place of cash. I don’t care what gang you’re with. This girl and her momma are always late, and I’m always lenient because they don’t cause much trouble, but this time they’re extra late, and like I said, this is a business. I don’t do handouts.”
“I’ll have the money for you in an hour.”
“No, Niki. Let me handle this,” Andy protests.
I give her a terse shake of my head. “An hour,” I repeat. Then I step back into Andy’s apartment and shut the door. ”You should have told me you were having money problems. I’d have taken care of it. Get your coat. I don’t want you staying here alone while I go get the rent money.”
“I have the money, Niki. It’s just…” She trails off and shoves her hand through her hair in frustration. She winces as she does it.
It’s then that I notice the bruises on her hand. I’ve been in enough fights to know exactly how those marks appear. She hit someone.
I grab her and tilt her hand toward her. “Who’d you fight?”
Her eyes widen. “What? No one.”
I kiss her palm. “It’s okay, babe. Let’s go get the money.” I’ll find out who she hit later, like after I’ve had my tongue inside of her.
“I’m paying you back.”
“Sure.” I know better than to argue. If she pays me money, I’ll just tuck it away. I’ll be the Bank of Niki, holding the account of one.