Getting Out Of The Game
By Sasha Key
()
About this ebook
Veora Arnold is working hard to climb from underneath her man's, Zhaire Simon, shadow and ascend the ranks of the Spider Gang. While she loves him and the gang, she is beginning to question whether the life is sustainable, much to the delight of her secret love and high school sweetheart, Ethridge Nash. For the past year, he has been unable to convince her to get out, but he's hoping a recent shooting will set her straight.
Being the King Pin he is, it's no surprise that Zhaire has a flock of women at his disposal, but his most recent conquest, Ranisha Ware give Veora cause to pause. Immediately upon meeting her, she questions the woman's occupation as a bank teller. Her warnings to Zhaire about discussing the heist job in front of her go ignored as does her attempts to convince him that the gang isn't ready.
Just as she predicted, the heist goes bad, resulting in a massive fire fight. Facing a hail of gun fire and shots, a savior carries Veora to safety. Survival is her first focus, but the decision to stay or leave isn't far off. The question she must answer is about loyalty; remain with the only family she's ever known or runaway with the only man that's truly ever loved her.
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Getting Out Of The Game - Sasha Key
Prologue
The sheets stuck to Veora’s skin as she tried to roll over on her side. A sharp pain stopped her in the tracks.
Shit.
She stretched her shoulder, careful not to loosen the dressing crossing over her bicep, which was donning a new red splotch. Pulling herself into a seated position, her breath warmed her upper lip, copying the sunlight warming the rest of her body. Leaves floated past the large floor-to-ceiling windows, a gentle breeze causing waves in the manmade pond. For the first time in a long time, she felt peace.
I hear you, God. I get it.
She took what happened to be a sign, an omen. Veora knew she needed to change her life, and she wanted to, but everyone in the game knows how hard it is to get out.
I just need a little more time. A little more money.
Heaviness weighed her down, God’s disappointment. She was already going back on her promise. She tried to convince herself that she wasn’t the only one, that everyone, at some point, went back on their promises. But she wasn’t like everyone else. A sigh caused her chest to collapse in on itself. She sank back into the mold of her body, the memory foam holding her close.
After an hour’s sleep, she awoke once more, the throbbing in her arm pulling her from her subconscious. Prideful, she didn’t want, nor trust, anyone to help her. Throwing the comforter back, she exposed her phone and began scrolling through her messages for instructions on how to clean her wound. Despite the pain being centralized in her arm, she limped to the bathroom. First peeling off her clothes, she followed by removing the tape and gauze covering her bullet wound. Looking in the mirror, she watched as her blood gave in to gravity, a red streak spilling toward her wrist. Not a vain woman, Veora’s mouth twisted as she thought about the scar that would linger.
Following the step-by-step directions Ethridge gave her, she cleaned and redressed the injury before starting a bath. While waiting for the tub to fill, Veora examined herself in the full-length mirror. She ran her hands over her flat stomach, down her plump thighs, squeezing her pert breasts.
The gauze was rough against her fingertips. Her gaze remained on it.
She no longer felt balanced.
It was already a struggle to remain feminine in such a male-dominated industry. The hole in her arm only made her more masculine. She prided herself on her flawlessness, not a scar, freckle, or mole decorating her skin. Now she would be forced to wear a scar that couldn’t be hidden.
Maybe this is my just due.
She remembered the promise she made to the Most High.
God, I swear if you let me survive this, I’ll get out. I’ll give it all up, settle down, start a family, the normal life. I’ll quit all this shit if you let me live.
I didn’t say when,
she said, aloud.
Veora’s phone was ringing when she opened the bathroom door. She had three missed calls, two from Ethridge, the last from Zhaire. She dialed her voicemail, picking at her nails while listening to the automated voice.
You have one new message. First message.
What V? I ain’t heard from you in a few days. I need to know what you want me to do about the shipment that’s coming in. We were supposed to meet with, well, you know. Get back at me. Let me know you alright.
Work never stops,
she said to herself. She allowed her head to fall into the pillows when her phone vibrated in her hand; a text from Ethridge. She called him back.
Hey, pretty girl,
he greeted. How’s my baby?
Just got out of the bath.
Without me?
Ethridge smacked his lips.
I’ll take one with you when you get here. Where are you?
He told her that he had a few things to take care of at the hospital before he would be on his way. The chaotic environment blasted through the speaker, people shouting orders, shoes squeaking on the tiled floor.
Busy day?
she asked.
You know it. I’ll text you when I’m on the way, baby. Think of what you want to eat. I love you.
Yeah, me too.
Veora hung up the phone, guilt flooding her chest. She should’ve been able to say she loved him back.
Ethridge was everything she should want in a man. He had a good job, treated her like a queen, and wanted a family. Most of all, he wasn’t in the game. Having known him and loved him since high school, the reason why she couldn’t vocalize her feelings eluded her. She convinced herself it was her occupation. Her lifestyle was too dangerous. She didn’t want to promise him something she may not be able to deliver. That reality became all too real, having survived a shootout.
Hello,
a voice called.
Her screen was still green. Sorry baby, I thought I hung up.
Ethridge’s deep chuckle soothed her.
See you in an hour, baby.
Can’t wait.
She buried the phone under the mound of pillows and tucked herself in, her eyes floating to the ceiling. Her mind wandered to the places she had been in her life and where it might go in the future. Eventually, it settled back on him. I love you, E. I promise I do. Wait on me a little longer.
Wake up beautiful.
Veora opened her eyes to see stretched plump lips that were pulled back to reveal shiny white teeth. The rest of Ethridge’s face came into focus the longer she was awake. He was holding a bag in each hand. What’s all that?
You didn’t text me back, so I didn’t know what to get to eat.
What’re my options?
she asked.
Take out or I can cook for you,
he said, sitting on the bed next to her. Silence settled between them. He wanted to know about her injury but wouldn’t pressure her into talking about it. It would only lead to an