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Crown and Anchor Series: Book 1-4 by Kerri Ann (73)

 

RISEN

 

“This is delicious. Thanks again,” I tell Cassidy. She’s kept me well-fed without debate or condemnation for the amount I ingest.

“Risen, I’ve told you before, I have expectations.” Cassidy says as she pulls two more eggs off the griddle, adding them to my plate.

“Then I’ll just have to try harder,” I say, speaking around a mouthful of juicy blood orange.

It’s day nine, and I’ve explored every inch of that library that I saw on the first day. For sure, I was impressed with the volumes on motor racing, of which were expected in this house, but the stacks and stacks of books about sea creatures, horses, elephants, and Savannah wildlife was extensive. The books were earmarked and worn, with various splatters of nondescript foods across their well-loved pages. Even though they are located in the more opulent and luxurious room, they seem to be something that the kids read as they grew up. They were excessively loved.

“Do you have any plans today?”

Picking up another forkful of soft, creamy eggs, I nod and swallow before answering. “Usual, I guess. I wouldn’t mind getting out for a few errands, but I doubt China would be up for it.”

We’ve spoken about this before. I’m locked down inside the mansion. I’m stuck. Without speaking directly to China, and not having any balls to contact her, even though she just so happens to be in the next hallway, I’m causing my own silent sequestering.

“Give her a chance. Miss China might surprise you.”

“Maybe. I’d have to find her first.” I peel back another slice of the sweet, juicy fruit.

“Check the deck. She’s always out there.”

“I’d hate to impose. I’ve invaded her world enough as it is.” Shaking her head with disappointment, Cassidy turns and works on the dishes she’s left behind without a further word. I’m quickly learning that if she has a comment that would be nasty, mean to me, or construed as inappropriate against one of the Crown’s, she won’t say it. She purses her lips, shakes her head, then turns away.

Placing my fork down, I push away from the counter and thank Cassidy before I exit the kitchen. “Risen? You didn’t finish.”

“I’m no longer hungry. Thanks, Cassidy.” Walking away, I feel like shit. I feel bad that I haven’t manned up about this whole situation, I have no reason to feel awkward about being here. As I’m musing about the predicament, my phone vibrates. Pulling it out, the strange cocksucker’s face beams across the screen with a vibrant fucking smile.

“Dickwad,” he greets before I have a moment to answer.

“Hey. Nice to speak to you too. What are you doin’?”

“Not much,” Trevor says, quite matter of fact, which means something is up.

“Me neither. You on shift today with fucknuckles?”

“No. And why are you not doing much? You’re at the Crown mansion, and you—”

“Are doing what I normally do, just with less fire and panache.”

“I need to understand this. You, Risen, are bored to death, sitting at a mansion that has one of the sexiest single women on the planet? And all you’ve done is mope, work out, and eat?”

Fucker.

“Yep. That about sums it up.” Bastard is making me feel like a chickenshit.

“You’re a pussy.”

And there it is.

“Why couldn’t it have been me that was stuck there? You must be the most unluckiest fucker on the planet to have to endure such pain and torture.” In a way, yes. It’s not something he’ll understand, and it’s too hard to explain, especially because I can’t even explain it to myself.

“You’re a prick. You know that, right?”

“Yeah. No change there.”

“Listen, it’s bad enough I’m holed up here, I don’t need your patronizing bullshit.”

“I think you’re a dumb shit. Why not just buck up and go talk to her? Stop being a wet freakin’ blankie and do what I think you should. Or you could invite me over and I’ll break the ice.” Cocky bastard.

“I have to run into town to pick up a few things. Maybe after, you can come over for drinks. We’ll watch ball, burp, and eat some wicked wings. Cassidy makes a mean set of hot wings.”

“I’m up for that, but you don’t have the balls to go to town. That means you’ve have to talk to the scary girl.”

“Fuck you, Trevor. It’s not like I need permission.” As I round the corner, toward the spare room I found the other day. I think it was King’s office. It had some partially packed boxes filled with trophies, mangled pistons, ribbons, pictures of past legends, and various other knickknacks.

“Sounds to me like you do.”

Closing the door behind me, I blast past that subject. “How about a subject change. How’s work? Am I missing anything out of the ordinary?”

“Nah, same shit. The same asshole’s creating it.”

Great. “Let me guess, Riggs is causing a majority of it?”

“Not a fucking chance. He’s been the goddamn poster child of good behavior. It’s fucking scary.” He pauses, and it takes a bit before restarting. “Look, Risen, he’s been sucking up to the chief and Captain John. They’ve been giving him cushy butthole jobs that anyone could excel at. He looks like a freakin’ champ.”

“Pardon? It sounds like you said Riggs is looking like a good guy?” I’m absolutely flabbergasted. The guy is a dickwad. He has about three whole brain cells that aren’t used for his dick, and he sucks at his job.

“Yeah, man, sorry he is.”

Shit, I need a fucking drink. “You really wanna come by?” I ask.

“Really? Yeah, of course. I don’t have shift today, and tomorrow I’m on late night. Wanna get shit-faced?”

“You just took the words right out of my mouth, brother. I’ll get the shit done in town I need to, and I’ll text you when we’re back.” Moments later, I’ve texted him the directions, the code for the gate, and told him where to park. I also told him what to pick up for liquor because regardless of eating here, I won’t drink their booze. That’s just rude.

Now to find China.

Damn, this is going to be a long fucking night.

 

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