Antihero (Imperfect Heroes Book 1)
Page 12
Freaking weenie…
I got up from the plush living room chair I’d just purchased last month, along with the rest of the new living room furniture, and walked to the bathroom, where I splashed cold water on my face. I breathed in through my nose, then I exhaled through my mouth. Then I did it again.
Drying my face on one of my new burgundy towels, I looked at myself in the mirror. Worry lined my forehead and made me look ugly. Never had I loved the way I looked, but this wasn’t helping.
Huffing, I left the bathroom with a claw-clip in my hand as I twisted my short blonde hair up and off my neck.
Murder-for-hire…
I spied my wine glass on the end-table and made my way toward it, swallowing it back in one gulp, and then stalking to the kitchen for more. Opening the fridge, I popped off the temporary cork and poured more.
Red wine doesn’t belong in the fridge. It’s to be served warm… I heard my sister’s voice ringing in my ear.
“I don’t give a shit,” I said into thin air. I can’t drink anything warm, not even fancy wine.
As it slid down my throat, I glanced at the papers again. This was huge, big, heavy, and… what the hell was I going to do?
Tell the truth…
The truth about what? I didn’t do anything! I’m no accountant. I had no idea what went on in the financial department. All I did was process the legal work and subpoenas from their clients. There was that one time, about a year ago, when Margie had quit and I had to try to sort out their finances, but that was short-lived until Angela had arrived…
Oh, my God!
I looked down at the date of the charges. They were recent, but the tax evasion dated exactly a year ago when I was trying to wade through their financials. The murder-for-hire charge was more recent.
Holy crap! George… Elmo… what have you done?
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