Punishing Me (Shaft on Tour #6) by Cat Mason Read Free Book Online

foyer. Knowing that the silence of staying in the house all
day will more than likely drive me insane, I grab my bag and keys. Digging in
my bag, I retrieve the store list and shake my head. “Who would’ve thought I’d
actually look forward to grocery shopping,” I laugh as I head for my car.
Pinning my dark brown and purple hair up in a hat I keep in the glovebox, I
cover my face with big black sunglasses in somewhat of an attempt at keeping a
low profile for the sake of everyone’s sanity before pulling out and heading
into town to shop and kill as much of the day as possible.

Chapter Five
    Super Coolest Girl
    Mack
    “Can
we go today? Can we? Can we puhleeeeeeeeeeease?”
    “Oh
pullin’ out the big guns, huh?” I ask, looking up at her in the rearview
mirror. Leaning up in her seat, as much as the belt allows, Jazzie clamps her
tiny hands together like she is preparing to pray. Wincing, I prepare myself
for what is coming. five, four, three, two, one… Cue full on pout. She puffs
out her bottom lip, it quivers as her big brown eyes widen innocently and fill
with tears.
    “Please,
Mack. Pretty, pretty, pleeeeeeeease.”
    As
if I have a choice in the matter. I am helplessly wrapped around a six-year-old’s
finger and will openly admit it.
    Dramatically,
I blow out a breath and check my exterior mirrors before signaling to change
lanes. “I guess so,” I sigh. Glancing up into the mirror again, I wink at her.  “But,
you aren’t allowed to have any fun. None. You feel me?”
    She
giggles. That sound, I’d give damn near anything to hear that laugh every day.  In
the time I have worked with the band, I have made friends, in one way or
another, with everyone, but I’ll admit I enjoy my time with Jazz the most. She
doesn’t judge me and there are times she looks at me like I am the greatest
person on the planet. I say something funny and it’s as if I hung the damn moon
or something.
    Only
one other girl has ever looked at me like that and I was quick to disappoint
her.
    Flashers
on a blue car ahead catch my attention, but that’s not what causes me to pull
the car over to the shoulder. The woman beside the car has me stopping
immediately. She kicks the flat tire before throwing her hands up.
    “Is
that Ireland?” Jazz says from the backseat.
    “Stay
here, Squirt.” Putting the car in park, I turn and give the kid my most serious
face. “I mean it, no shenanigans outta you or we go straight home from here.
You feel me?”
    Nodding,
she crosses her pink painted fingers over her heart. “Promise.”
    Opening
the door, I climb from the car, instantly met with one of Ireland’s profanity
tirades. “Motherfuckin’ piece of shit car. Good for fuckin’ nothin’ roadside
and their two shittin’ hour wait. Brand new tires my happy ass. Shit piss and
sonuvabitch!” she screams, kicking the tire again.
    “With
all that hot air, you’d think you could just air it right back up and drive
off.”
    “This
can’t be happening,” she mutters, before turning to face me. Her eyes narrow
the second she sees me. “Of course it is. Nothing could top my day more than having
the only person stop, in the last half hour, be you. ” Turning to face
her car, she buries her face in her arms on the roof. “I need a vacation from
my vacation,” she mutters, her words muffled so much I can barely make them
out.
    “Does
that toy even come with a spare?” I ask, amused with the situation. “If not, I
think the kid has a balloon in the car we could use.”
    “Ha,”
she huffs, sarcastically. Pushing off the car, she glares at me. Her hair is
pulled up in an old St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap, giving me a rare glimpse
of her face without the veil of hair she usually hides behind. I can’t help
eyeing up the rest of her. Her gray t-shirt and worn dark wash jeans hug every curve
of her body all the way down to the brown combat boots she has left loosely
laced and untied. Her make-up is subtle today, not the flashy