Preppy: The Life & Death of Samuel Clearwater Read Online T.M. Frazier (King #5)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Biker, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Funny, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: King Series by T.M. Frazier
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Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
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“You’re a dumb bitch, you know that?” Eric snapped. “This…” he said, holding up one of the plants, shaking it in the air, “…is exactly the reason why we came here. Did you really think we came all the way down to this shit town to lift shitty cheap jewelry from your Granny?” He shook his head in disbelief and continued to fill his bag. “Dumb, fucking bitch,” he muttered.

Conner chimed in. “When we heard what was here we thought it was just a rumor, but we hit the mother load. You know how much this shit is worth on the street?” He crossed the room and shoved a bag into my hand. Just him being near me made me more disgusted than any withdrawal ever could. “Help load this up. That shit you like to shoot up with isn’t fucking free, you know.”

I know, because I’ve paid the price.

No more.

“You knew all this was here?” I asked, dropping the bag and taking a step back.

“Fuck yeah, we did,” Eric said, holding up his hand for Conner to high-five him. Conner shot him the bird instead and continued his destruction of the room, knocking over equipment and pulling tubes from the wall. Water from those tubes sprayed around the room like a sprinkler, soaking everything within, including Conner and Eric, who either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “We were watching when your Granny opened the door. That bitch has no clue who you fucking are, does she?” Eric asked. “Maybe I should go see if she can take a pounding as good as her granddaughter can,” he said, grabbing the crotch of his sagging sweatpants.

Conner, someone who used to be the first to come to my defense, was now laughing at my humiliation. At the sick joke Eric had made about something not even remotely fucking funny.

“Who knew that an old lady could do all this?” Conner said, kicking over some sort of machine by the window, splitting it open to reveal it’s red and blue wirey guts.

Which was when it hit me.

Conner was actually right. Mirna couldn’t have done all this. Not even at her best. Mirna was the kind of person who refused to take aspirin when she had a headache so drugs of any kind weren’t exactly on her radar. And as far as botanical skills went, hers didn’t go any further than the small flower box under the front window.

“Look around you, you fucking idiots!” My words came slower than my mouth could move, and with my head throbbing like I’d been clubbed, it was a wonder I could speak at all. “This is high-tech shit. Whoever you’re really stealing from, it’s not my grandmother, and I’m pretty sure that you’ve seen enough movies to know that stealing drugs from someone who deals it never ends well, so chances are that they aren’t going to forget this. They’ll be coming for you.”

Conner laughed and pointed between the three of us. “Yeah, when he finds out what WE did. The three of us. As much as you like to think you’re better than us you’re not. This is as much you as it is us.”

“He? So you know whose stuff this is?”

Conner rolled his eyes at me. Eyes that used to contain kindness and sympathy had grown to hold nothing but hatred and contempt. “Stop asking so many fucking questions and help us carry this shit out.” His smirk twisted into a sick, knowing smile. “Or don’t. But then I can’t promise that we’re going to be as gentle with you tonight as we were last night.”

I’d never liked guns. Even my dad’s hunting gun that he kept on display in his office made me uncomfortable.

But then Conner said something that reminded me that if I had a gun, I could never pull the trigger. “Or maybe I’ll call Mellie and she can ride my cock for a while,” Conner said, stepping up into my space, glaring down at me with all the hatred in his soul. “Oh, that’s right. I can’t. Because she’s dead.”

The familiar guilt bubbled in my gut and exploded in my heart. The heavy, never ending, too much for one soul to bare, guilt. It was what the bars of my imaginary cell were made out of, the one Conner built around me with his words, the one he’d just pushed me back inside and slammed the door shut.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” Mirna sang, coming to stand beside me at the door. Her hand on my shoulder. Conner backed down and went back to work, stuffing his bag. “But would any of you like some cookies?” she asked, holding up a plate of her famous double chocolate chip cookies. Eric and Conner ignored her, continuing to loot the room of its plants and damage and destroy everything else.


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