This is B.S. (Cryptid Assassin Book 6) by Michael Anderle

Author:Michael Anderle [Anderle, Michael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2020-05-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

His eyes were open before the alarm went off.

Taylor didn't enjoy the feeling of being jolted out of a deep sleep with the help of a loud alarm—no one did—but there was something supremely disappointing about waking up on his own with the realization that he didn't have enough time to roll over and catch a few more Z's before the abrasive noise dragged him out again.

There was always the option of simply turning the alarm off and waking up whenever he damn well pleased, but that was a slippery slope. It would inevitably lead to a lack of discipline in his life, and it wasn't something he was willing to risk at the moment.

As a result, all he could do was stare at his damn phone until it vibrated and rang a tune he'd never heard of but now hated for the sole reason that it was his alarm. He knew he would end up hating any song he chose for that purpose, so it was better to have one he didn't know rather than sour those he knew and liked.

He retrieved the phone and turned the alarm off before he dragged himself out of the cot. His focus had been to do the necessary renovations and get his business productive, but maybe he would have to get his hands on a real bed sometime soon. The cot wasn't a terrible place to sleep, but it also wasn't the best way to get a good night's rest.

Finally, his gaze settled on the screen of the device still in his hand. There were a couple of notifications he hadn't paid attention to in a while, but three missed calls were something to keep his eye on. Someone had put a fair amount of effort into trying to make contact with him.

Well, enough to call him three times and leave messages.

The number was familiar, and he knew whose voice he would hear when he dialed into his voicemail box.

"Look, McFadden," Niki said on the recording. "I don't know what you're doing right now that won’t let you answer your phone and honestly, I don't care. Or I think I don't care. Of course, I wouldn't call you if I didn't care, and I definitely wouldn't leave you a voice message. Wait—shit…"

She sounded drunk, slurred a couple of words he couldn’t fully hear, and hung up, which led him to the second of the voicemails.

"I won’t apologize for calling," she continued as if she’d never ended her previous message. "I can call whoever I like, whenever I like. I'm a strong, independent woman who can make any calls she chooses, thank you very much. That's all I have to say. I won’t apologize. Oh, and answer your damn phone."

It apparently wasn't all she had to say, and he pressed to listen to the next message.

"Like I said, I don't care what you're doing at this point. We didn't agree to start dating or anything, so I don't know what you want.

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