Chapters (37)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Right at Him
- Ivan the Terrible
- I Blew It
- Don’t Give Up
- Whoosh
- Because We Love You
- Anytime
- Worth It
- Keep Putting in the Work
- Porn Preferences
- Us. Here. Finally.
- B
- Safe Place
- Fireman’s Hold
- Scratched the Surface
- Back on Track
- That Path Is Always Open to You
- Two Drawers
- Off
- Setup
- Tripped
- Stolen Base
- In Her Corner
- She Was Mine Before
- Fly Forever
- Deviled Eggs
- The Women
- Soar
- Discover More
- A Preview of "Dream Keeper”
- A Perfect World
- About the Author
- Also by Kristen Ashley
- Praise for Kristen Ashley
They both ignored it and jogged up two flights of stairs, walked down the hall and stopped at the door they needed.
“I’d give you the honors due to your frustration, but you just pissed me off, so I get to do it,” Auggie announced.
Axl jutted his chin in assent and Aug immediately lifted his boot, landed it with no small amount of pressure right by the handle, and the door flew open.
Instantly, there was a flood of the dregs of humanity brushing past them.
A door bursts open, they assume police.
Oh yeah.
Brandi was home.
With the mass exodus, it was clear her minions had let her down with loyalty. Walking through the fetid apartment, it was also clear they let her down with cleaning.
What was unclear was why she had them in the first place.
They hit the living room at the back.
Oh, right.
That was why.
She sat her throne of an armchair Goodwill would turn down, long red dreads, raccoon eyeliner, pasty white skin that was not helped with copious contouring, massive gold bespoke hoops that said BRANDI across the circle at her ears, a variety of thick chains hanging around her neck, Gucci tee and track pants, Balenciaga color-block sneakers.
None of that was fake or black-market rip-offs.
Even the gold at her ears.
So, yeah.
A girl had to find the green to get her logo, keeping minions addled in narcotics was Brandi’s way.
How he grew up, Axl could do designer. And that was one thing he was down to take from his father’s teachings.
He’d been in Boss last night, with Mezlan shoes.
But he wasn’t sure about Brandi’s switch-up between Gucci and Balenciaga. He felt it flew in the face of appropriate sporting of logo wear.
What he was sure about was his distaste for Brandi appropriating Black statements.
That woman’s people had never been in chains.
Thank fuck he wasn’t partnered up with Marques today. As was his right, Marques had a serious issue with appropriation, not to mention the ability to share how he felt about that in a variety of ways.
“Fuck, how’d you find me?” she demanded while the last of the queen’s court scuttled down a side wall and made his escape.
“You’re on Hawk’s payroll, B,” Auggie told her. “And as such, Hawk expects, if you need to change scenes, you send in an updated address form.”
Brandi gave them nothing but a glare.
“Been a minute,” Axl noted.
“Sixty times twenty-four times about ninety-five days, maybe a few of them,” Aug added.
“Things got hot for me at my last locale,” Brandi spat.
“Hot how?” Axl asked.
“My business is your business only if I make it your business,” she stated. “That’s the deal.”
“Wrong,” Axl returned. “Your business isn’t our business unless you make it our business, in however we feel that might happen. And right now, ghosting us a couple of days after taking your last fee, you became our business.”