She watched as Lester leaned in to his attorney and whispered. The attorney nodded and scribbled something on his yellow legal pad. How did she get to this point? Her family had long since disowned her. If Lester went to prison, she was alone. Well, except for the supposed “support network” Lester insisted would care for her in the “unlikely event” he was convicted. It was her own fault for trusting him in the first place. Four years later, and she had no money of her own, nothing to her name except her clothes and her car, and Lester never failed to remind her it was his money that bought everything. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. She never met any of his “associates.” She almost pictured the air quotes around those euphemistic expressions from Lester’s lexicon. Bottom line, she knew damn well what he was, but her voluntary ignorance saved her from going to jail with him. Or worse. He was a hit man, and she was his goomah. Technically. Although since they weren’t married, and she only lived with him, that supposedly elevated her in status to lower than wife but higher than whore.
What do You think about Dalton, Tymber - Doggy Tales [Doggy Tales] (Siren Publishing Classic)?
