Read Online Riding Dirty by Abriella Blake - Free Book Online Page B

turned up to offer her guidance and support. People like Professor Weller and Nila had been instrumental in propping her up in her relentless pursuit of escape and success. Ultimately, though, she had always known such encounters were the exception and not the rule. She never came to expect help.
    The world was mostly harsh, uncaring. What did it matter to others whether or not one more white chick finished high school, made it through college, got a good job? Nobody else really cared. She knew that, and she didn’t blame the world. It wasn’t its fault.
    She had always been on her own, until now.
    The only way she had managed to get herself as far as university in Montgomery was through the sheer force and persistence of her own willpower. Since grade school she had trained herself, never pausing for breath or rest as she painstakingly climbed the ladder of the American Dream. Each day and each college credit was one step closer to securing a brighter future for her and Lacy. It was always about both of them. Rowan had always felt the pressing responsibility of her birth order, knowing she alone held the potential to change her family’s trajectory. In the cold light of pessimism and loneliness, she had become a survivor.
    But even that strong, ambitious Rowan Thomas, the one who had scraped her way up to be a masters candidate at Alabama State University, had limitations. Her weaknesses had become clear to her once she arrived in Las Vegas and had to face the fact that she didn’t know the first thing about tracking down a human organ on the black market. She couldn’t tell poor Chitto the real reason she had set up camp in the living room of his tiny apartment, as she didn’t want to put him in any danger. She had tried to do it all on her own, like she always did, but couldn’t. Just yesterday she had failed at the simple task of robbery she had set for herself, succumbing to the superior strength of Bronson Ramsey.
    This new woman she saw in the mirror, though, couldn’t possibly fail.
    There was a firm knock at the bedroom door and Bronson’s voice bellowed through the flimsy barrier, ripping Rowan from the spell of her thoughts and back to the present task at hand.
    “Just about finished? It’s time to go.”
    “Yeah,” Lola shouted back. “One second.” She licked her fingers and smoothed a rebellious strand of Rowan’s hair back up into the flawless chignon she had fashioned and a frown of concentration flickered across her flawless oval face. She contentedly admired her achievement for a brief, sweet moment before a stab of envy flashed through her mind.
    Who the hell was this cracker chick and why was the club bending over backwards for her? Women didn’t usually get involved in anything more serious than the legitimate business covers. Why was Bronson singling out this schoolgirl, spending so much energy on her?
    Lola’s stomach sank, anticipating how much Bronson would like what he saw when the makeover was revealed. She knew he was a womanizer, that he wasn’t her man anymore, but that didn’t soften the sting.
    Lola shook her head, reminding herself that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, really. This was for the Club. All those questions she wanted to ask—off limits. “Alright babydoll,” she said with a reassuring wink at Rowan. “It’s all you now. Make it count.”
    “Thank you both so much for your help.”
    Rowan masterfully stilled her capsizing mind, gained full composure, and committed herself to her maiden voyage into organized crime. The knowledge that what she was about to do with her night directly played toward the endgame of securing Lacy’s transplant gave Rowan a surge of determination that unlocked an inner reservoir of courage. Go big, or go home.
    With her head held high she walked slowly and methodically to the door. She had to move carefully, as she was still adjusting to what she mentally referred to as her hooker shoes—there hadn’t been much of an