Hard Luck (St. Louis Mavericks #4) Read Online Brenda Rothert

Categories Genre: Angst, Romance, Sports Tags Authors: Series: St. Louis Mavericks Series by Brenda Rothert
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70518 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
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“Hey Sam. I’m Lucy.”

Instinct made me keep my voice down. Even though I knew no one on this bus was following me, I carried fear around like a heavy package I couldn’t put down. It was always there, even when I tried to reason my way out of it.

I’d be safe at Sawyer’s. I just had to get there. If he knew who and what I was running from, I knew he would have come to pick me up himself. I couldn’t blame him for sending a teammate, though, because I hadn’t told him yet.

Shame was a lot like grief. It didn’t come from a logical place, and it was hard to send it packing. I felt shame for the situation I was in, whether I’d knowingly walked into it or not.

“How old are you, Lucy?” Sam asked.

“I’m twenty-seven.”

He grinned. “Well, I like older women. Some buddies are picking me up at the bus station and we’re going out. I’d love for you to join us.”

I laughed, and Sam’s expression turned sober.

“No, I’m laughing because it’s been a hot second since anyone asked me out,” I said.

Sam grinned. “Why? You’re superhot.”

“With no makeup? In my hoodie?” This was going from funny to hilarious.

“Hell yeah.”

“You’re sweet, but someone’s picking me up at the bus station.”

Sam drew his brows together. “Your boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Uh…not really.” Before he could say another word, I added, “But I did twenty-four hours ago.”

Sam’s whole face lit up. “So you’re on the rebound? I’m a perfect rebound guy. We can party that asshole all the way out of your system, Lucy.”

He did a little dance from the waist up and I responded with a polite smile.

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m just going to catch up with my brother tonight.”

With a shrug, he turned his attention to his phone. Apparently, I wasn’t worth talking to since I didn’t want to go out with him.

When the bus finally slowed to a stop at the terminal, I exhaled hard, glad to have reached the end of my journey.

My phone vibrated with a text and I looked down at the screen. It was from an unknown number.

Unknown: Hi Lucy, this is Konstantin. I am here to pick you up. I’m waiting in the terminal. Dark hair. Gray shirt. Many tats.

I vaguely remembered meeting him at Annie’s funeral. His suit had been a stark contrast to the ink on his neck. He seemed kind of intense—the opposite of Sawyer’s happy-go-lucky, extroverted teammate Nash.

Nash was funny and sweet. Why couldn’t Sawyer have sent him to pick me up?

I responded to the text.

Lucy: Hi, the bus just arrived. I’ll be there soon. Thanks for coming to get me.

Unknown: No prob.

People were starting to file off the bus, so I stood, my phone buzzing with another text as I waited for my turn.

Nate: Where the hell are you?

Nate: I called the spa you said you were going to. You lying bitch.

My heart pounded in my chest and I grabbed the top of the seat in front of me, feeling light-headed. I knew this was coming. I sold or left behind everything to my name except the clothes in the two bags I’d brought on the bus and my phone.

I needed to be able to reach Sawyer in case my travel plans changed, and I’d considered getting a burner cell phone, but that seemed too Jason Bourne. It didn’t anymore.

He was going to find me. I knew that. All I wanted was to be safely at Sawyer’s before he did. And even though he was probably still in Spokane, his texts spooked me. I felt like he could see me right now, like he could grab me at any moment.

Nate: You can’t hide from me. My brother will find you.

I stepped into the aisle of the bus, the line moving slowly. My grip on the small bag I’d carried onto the bus was so tight my hand burned.

As soon as I reached the bus stairs, I rushed down them and gulped in fresh air, forcing myself not to look at the texts that were hitting my phone in rapid-fire succession. I powered it off and shoved it into my pocket.

Walking around to the back of the bus, I passed the driver, who was opening the door to the baggage compartment. This was my chance, and I had to take it. I walked to the other side of the bus and took my phone out of my pocket.

After looking over both shoulders to make sure no one could see me, I quickly wedged the phone under the huge tire of the bus. Nate would find me eventually, but he would never terrorize me by phone again. Knowing the bus would crush the phone—and those unread texts—gave me a small thrill.

With a deep breath, I walked around to get my other bag from the bus driver. I put the straps of both bags over my shoulders and headed for the terminal.


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