i do not support ella in any way. this book is a comfort book for a lot of people and some people haven't finished yet.
"A killer who is afraid of guns and another who is afraid of the dark, huh? Quite the team."
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Cleo knows wha...
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"I like this song," I told Cleo, glancing sideways at her while we were in my car.
I'd picked the SUV tonight and it'd been a while since I drove it, but it was kinda necessary to choose a larger car for what we were about to do.
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Well, we were currently parked at the very end of this parking lot behind the gym Louis went to, and it'd be very fucking dark if it wasn't for the lamppost a few feet away from us, giving our surroundings an orange glow.
It was almost ten p.m. and we'd been here for about half an hour, waiting for him to walk out. I made a few calls and it was easy to find out where he was, he was very fucking brave by acting so carelessly, assuming I wouldn't want to kill him after what he did. Louis apparently forgot who I was, sometimes even I would forget how influential my last name was.
But now it only made me sick, knowing the true reason behind such power and wealth. Fuck, I knew I'd earned my own money with the jobs I accepted, but now I was overthinking about them and wondering how every person I killed could be involved with the trafficking business, therefore indirectly helping my father.
Fuck, this was too much.
"Devil's Advocate is one of my favorites," Cleo spoke up, catching my attention and smiling at me. She loved when I liked the songs she showed me, she'd always get this cute blush on her cheeks. And I must admit I was turning into a big fan of The Neighbourhood, it was so weird how I could relate to the lyrics more than I should. I rarely listened to contemporary music, I liked to listen to songs that reminded me of my mother, she used to be a huge Stevie Nicks fan.
But I was letting Cleo pick the songs tonight and I just knew I wouldn't be able to get them out of my head, some of them were really good and I liked knowing these little things about her. A person's preference in music was a great way to learn more about them.
She was humming along to the song, looking out the tinted window as she smoked a cigarette, and I just knew she was as anxious as me. She was wearing a black turtleneck, leather pants, and the boots I'd gotten her, and I was glad the cut on her neck was practically healed.
