A gunshot. I scream, but neither Katy nor I fall. Ben, behind us and now awake, screams like a small child as I whip around, checking him and expecting to see blood pouring from the wound. But he's fine, still huddled on the cushions. I run my hands up and down my arms looking for a wound I can't feel or see because of adrenaline, but there's none.Katy does the same and we both stand, jumping back as the man who seconds earlier planned to kill us tumbles to the ground. His gun lands inches from his hand on the floor beside us.An old man I've never seen before, wearing green plastic pants, walks out from the doorway leading to the bottom of the boat. His complete body shakes and holds his gun pointed high at the man at the wheel telling him to turn off the boat."You ladies all right?" he asks, not taking his eyes from the driver, who walks toward him leaving us next to a dead man by ourselves.He reaches the wheel and shuts the motor off, walking his captor down to our level.
VOLUME NINE: FAMILY RISKWould sleeping with a muscular hot guy ever get boring?Nah.A thousand thoughts flutter through my brain as I lie wrapped in my yellow sheets in a post-orgasmic haze. Elliot and I have fallen into a routine the last few months, and I snuggle into my pillow waiting for him to rest for a few minutes before round two begins. There's always a round two.With a break in tradition, he leans over and gives me his quick goodbye kiss on the forehead before slipping out from underneath the covers. What the hell?I sit up and lean with a pillow against the headboard. "You're leaving so soon?"Elliot's never been one to lie around for an after-the-deed cuddle. We haven't once woken up together the next morning, but he's also never been a one-and-done guy either. The reason I've been okay with our brief liaisons is because he's never treated me like a fuck and run, but that's the feeling blossoming in my chest watching him get dressed in the darkness. It catche
Rocky, this six-year-old Yorkie who spends half his time acting like a puppy and the other half lounging around like he's an old man... er... dog lifts his head from his spot beside me on the couch. He scans to the left and then the right. I should have expected what's coming, but regardless of how quick I've gotten at sensing Rocky's shifts, I don't get the laptop on the floor in time.The dog who two seconds before slept peacefully, lunges off in his very own super dog move and races for the front door.Bark. Bark. Bark, bark, bark!"Rocky, no," I yell, chasing after him, but it's too late.Ray, the mailman, shoves letters through the slot in my door and Rocky wastes no time snatching up the first one to touch his lips and violently shaking it back and forth. I don't know what the dog has against junk mail, but he definitely holds a grudge.A very personal, violent grudge.It's a daily occurrence, as if he thinks each piece of mail is here to attack us. I've tried everyth
I clench my teeth together and follow my stepbrother, pretending nothing bothers me in the slightest. Just another random day in my life.Except it isn't, and I've just walked into the one place I vowed to never visit.It might not have been my smartest idea.Shit.As soon as the door closes, he turns on me. Too late to pretend I'm sleep walking at this point. "What the hell are you doing here? You know it's important to keep our distance."There isn't time for Dom to give me another lecture on how I should behave in Pelican Bay. "I know."He stomps to the section behind his desk and takes a heavy seat in his chair. "I gave you the cell phone to call me if you need something."Ohhhhh, right, the cell phone. In my haste to get out of the house, I forgot.Oops."You don't know what you've done by coming here. There are eyes everywhere in this town, Har."He looks to the outside, his large window at the front of his office with a view out over the sidewalk and street.
I don't want to go right home after leaving my brother's, but when you live in Pelican Bay, there aren't many options to help take your mind off an unpleasant situation. Therefore, I do the first thing I think of that sounds helpful.Drive around aimlessly.Eventually my pensive car ride turns into a supply run after a quick stop at the bakery for a few cupcakes to get me through the weekend. Then a healthy jaunt over to the diner to grab a turkey sandwich for myself and a four-pack of chicken nuggets for Rocky.I've never gone over the speed limit on my street, but on the way home, knowing there could be a stalker, murderer, or psycho out there lurking and waiting for me has my foot on the gas pedal.My eyes dart out the car window looking one way and the other to see if anyone is lurking in the bushes as I speed through the quiet street.I slow when my home comes into view and then come to a screeching halt when the driveway in front of my small detached garage is blocked b
My mouth opens, ready to argue it does not involve my brother in drugs, but I catch myself in time. Sadly, not in time to close my mouth before giving myself away. My brother is many things, but after watching his best friend OD at sixteen, he's not a drug runner or seller or pusher or anything like that. In fact, he promised me after being banished to Pelican Bay and the lackluster club, he would work on turning it around to a more legitimate business. There's a very thin line most clubs can walk where they maintain the reputation but can use their services for good.Okay, I'm not kidding anyone here. It's not good like most people consider. They're not donating teddy bears to the local hospital, but they're not out murdering people. Not all of them. Dominick promised this club was now on the up and up. It's one of the top reasons I agreed to move here. There's no reason someone needs to monitor their activities."Harley?" Elliot asks, breaking me out of my thought pattern. "Why w
"You ordered your dog chicken nuggets from the Chinese place?" Stella asks, staring at me with many more questions in her eyes as I dish up Rocky's Chinese takeout order on his little plate."It's from the kid's menu." He can't handle an adult portion and since I don't have actual kids, I feel Rocky fits the description. They're regular chicken nuggets. It's no worse than buying him a four piece from a fast-food joint, and it makes him feel special. Everyone — even dogs — deserves treats.Stella shoves a piece of beef in her mouth right from her container and takes a spot on my couch as I finish loading my plate with noodles and then vegetables layered on top.There were four crab rangoons left in the middle plate on my kitchen island and I grabbed two while eyeing the leftovers. "How many rangoons have you had? Are these mine?" I can't remember if we ordered a six or an eight piece when Stella video chatted me earlier in the day and made dinner plans.Crap. My interrogation wi
The little Yorkie takes off into the house with his envelope, and the mailman rings the doorbell again. I check out my peephole and spot him and his blue uniform holding a giant box. Then I step back freaking out over what to do. If I was home alone, I'd let him ring the bell all night until he left the box on the porch, but Stella looks at me like I've gone crazy for not answering it. She gives me one last quick glance and then sets her plate on the end table and goes in search of Rocky, leaving me alone.I don't want to explain why I'm scared to open the door, so as she searches my small home for my disobedient dog, I gather my strength and open it. No point in both of us being murdered."Hey, Ray," I say with a bright fake smile.Except it's not Ray, my usual mail guy, but a younger man I've never seen. "I'm sorry. You're not Ray."He smiles, not looking upset. "No, post office is changing policy and now houses with boxes go last. I'm running behind today, but this box is fo