All For Him Book 2 – Ray King (1)

She pushed it open before I could reach for the handle. “Got what we need,” I said, holding up the bottles. She nodded but didn’t say anything. I set the supplies down on the sidewalk and studied the windows. The spray paint had dried completely overnight, the red letters stark against the glass.

Whoever had done this had used cheap paint—it had already started to crack in places where it was thickest. I unscrewed the cap on the first bottle and soaked a rag with the graffiti remover. The sharp chemical smell hit immediately, cutting through the cold air. Starting with the word FILTH, I pressed the rag against the glass and began scrubbing.

The paint resisted at first, clinging stubbornly to the surface, but after a few passes, it started to dissolve. I worked in small sections, soaking the rag again every few minutes, applying pressure in circular motions until the red began to lift. It was slow work. The paint came off in streaks and smears, leaving residue that required multiple passes to clear completely.

My shoulder started to ache after the first twenty minutes, but I kept going. Ren came outside at one point, watching silently from the doorway. “How long is this going to take?” she asked quietly. “A couple of hours, probably,” I said without stopping. “Maybe three.” “You don’t have to do this, you know,” she said. “I know. But I want to.” She didn’t respond, just turned and went back inside. I moved on to the next word—PERVERTS—and repeated the process.

Soak the rag, scrub, wipe, repeat. The chemical smell clung to my hands and clothes, sharp and persistent. By the time I finished the first window, my arms were burning and the rag was stained dark red. I stepped back, checking my work. The glass was clean. No trace of the paint remained, except for faint shadows where the letters had been thickest. Another pass would take care of those. I grabbed the second bottle and started on the next window.

The sun climbed higher as I worked, warming the air just enough to make the cold bearable. A few cars passed on the street, slowing down as they went by. People stared, but I ignored them. By noon, I’d finished all three windows. I stood on the sidewalk, arms aching, and inspected the glass. No paint, no residue, no evidence that anything had been written there at all.

I gathered the empty bottles and the ruined rags, tossing them into a trash bag I’d pulled from the truck. Ren appeared in the doorway again. “It’s gone.” “Yeah.” She looked at the windows for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she met my eyes. “Thank you.” “Not done yet,” I said. “I still need to get cameras.” She nodded slowly. “Okay.”

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 1kitap1.com/en Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28 Chapter 29 Chapter 30 Chapter 31 Chapter 32 Chapter 33 Chapter 34 Thanks for Reading!

1kitap1.com/en I Chapter One pulled my truck into Kara’s driveway just after four o’clock on Saturday afternoon. Nicole sat beside me, one hand on my thigh, the other holding a bottle of wine we’d picked up from the general store. She’d been smiling the whole drive, that particular smile she got when she was genuinely happy about something. Kara had invited us over to show us the interior of her home now that she’d had time to move in the furniture and decorate.

I cut the engine and looked up at the house. The Victorian stood solid, no longer sagging under the weight of decades of neglect. Bobby and Mike had finished the exterior work last week. The scaffolding was gone. The house looked the way it must have looked in 1892, when Kara’s great- grandfather had built it. It looked like home. We walked up the front path together, Nicole’s hand finding mine.

The November air was cold enough that our breath misted. The front door opened before we reached the steps. Kara stepped onto the porch, and I felt it—that jolt of attraction that hit me every time I saw her, only stronger now because I knew exactly what it meant. Because I could feel it without guilt, without hesitation, without wondering if it made me a terrible person. She’d dressed up in dark jeans that fit perfectly and a cashmere sweater.

Her dark hair was down and loose the way I liked it. She wore minimal makeup, but her lips were glossed and her eyes were bright. She looked beautiful. More than that, she looked excited. Almost nervous, the way Nicole had said. Her hands moved to smooth her sweater, then stilled when she caught herself doing it. I walked up the porch steps, Nicole beside me. Kara’s gaze moved over both of us, lingering on me just long enough that I felt the heat of it.

I stopped in front of her, close enough to touch but not quite touching. I could smell her perfume and it made me think of her naked in my arms. “The house looks good,” I said. Kara’s smile turned wry. “You should know. You rebuilt half of it.” “We rebuilt it,” I corrected.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: bc18e83277669df6
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 1,464,963 bytes (1.397 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 186
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 255.82 minutes
• Total Words: 51,164
• Total Characters: 293,829
• Average Words per Page: 275.08
• Average Characters per Page: 1579.73

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