Notorious (Rock Bottom #2) by Jennifer Ann

Author:Jennifer Ann [Ann, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-04-16T16:00:00+00:00

After Rook booked a flight back to Connecticut first thing in the morning, the guys stayed way later than planned. We reminisced over craft beer into the early hours of the following day, making my decision to still visit Zoe questionable. I didn’t bother letting her know I was coming since she’s probably already sleeping. But fuck, I couldn’t lay in my bed any longer. Her dizzying scent clung to my sheets, and even with music blaring I could still hear her bubbling laughter floating to the ceiling.

I have it bad for this woman. The only way I’ll sleep tonight is with her in my arms. If I have to, I’ll sneak out before her sister wakes.

When I park the Chevelle in her driveway, a faint glow illuminates a room on the main floor of the little two-story house. Starting for her front door, I study the neighborhood with a critical eye. Based on the piece of shit car next door, pimped out with spinning rims and sporting what looks like a large bullet hole near the bumper, I’d bet my entire net worth that she’s living next to a gangbanger. Random junk and kids’ toys fill the neighbor’s chain-linked yard in serious need of mowing. The putrid stench of garbage clings to the warm summer air, and a handful of deep dog barks echo from nearby—the sound that can only come from large, dangerous breeds. Can’t say I’d mind if Zoe had the kind of dog that would rip an intruder’s throat out.

The Jacksons’ white clapboard house, small porch out front, is typical for the South Side. It’s in need of everything from a fresh coat of paint and new shingles, to windows that shut and a blowtorch to burn it to the ground.

I knock on the lime green door with a giant split down the middle, ready to roar when it slowly squeaks open on rusty hinges. The damn thing wasn’t latched. Does it even fucking close?

Goddamn it. I’ll do anything to get Zoe and her sister out of this dump.

Irritation climbs up my spine when I can’t get the door to fully shut behind me. The sharpness of a man’s voice penetrates the darkness as I’m passing through the entryway. I freeze, listening intently until I’m convinced it’s coming from a TV.

I find Charlize passed out in a narrow living room on an ancient couch, hoodie pulled over her purple hair, game controller resting in her limp hand. A cartoon-like character on the TV screen plays on a loop, goading her to make a selection.

I didn’t think the sisters looked that much alike before I saw Zoe without makeup, but now their similarities are glaringly obvious. Five years from now, they could be mistaken for twins. Seeing her peaceful innocence sends bolts of rage crashing into my gut. Without the damn door locking, anyone could come in here to abduct her. She’s tiny enough that she wouldn’t be able to put up a decent fight.

How the hell

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