Freya Morgan thought it was a great idea to hire the bad boy on campus to beat up her douchebag ex-boyfriend after he cheated and treated her like crap. Fast forward a few months, and nothing she’s done has helped her get over the scars left behind by her ex. Not the paid beating, not the string of dates, nothing.
Dean Collins is in trouble, and it’s all Freya’s fault. After all, she started the trend of all the ladies on campus paying him to do their dirty work. But now, two of the boys he was hired to beat up are dead, and he’s the only connection.
When Freya agrees to help him find the real killer, she discovers that this bad boy isn’t so bad, after all. And getting involved with him means more than finding a killer, it means potentially losing her life…and her heart.
Imperfectly Criminal is book two in the Imperfect Series. It has ranked in the top 100 on Amazon for Romantic Mysteries.
It’s unmistakable, the sound a body makes when it connects with the front of your car. I yelp and slam on the brakes just in time to see legs flailing in the air before disappearing to the ground, the view of the body blocked by the rounded hood of my old VW Beetle.
Dear mother of God.
I just ran someone over.
Slamming the stick shift into park, I race out of my vehicle and stop dead in my tracks when I see a familiar blond head on the ground.
Holy mother of all shitballs.
I didn’t just run over some random pedestrian. I ran over the biggest, baddest, most unfeeling person I’ve ever met who happens to find me the stupidest and most irritating person he’s ever met.
He’s unconscious. There are books and papers all around him and his bag is lying busted open, about two feet away from the body.
The body.
It’s not my fault. There’s been construction in front of my apartment building all week, blocking the sidewalk and forcing pedestrians into the street. It's impossible to see what’s coming from beyond.
I fall to my knees, laying my head on his chest. He’s still breathing. I’m not sure that’s a good thing. Once he regains consciousness, he’s going to kill me.
I remove my head from his chest and pat him gently on the cheek.
“Mob guy,” I say. Dang it, I can never remember his name!
Nothing.
I smack him a little harder. “Mob guy!”
His eyelid twitches slightly.
I’m about to punch him in the face when his eyes blink open. He looks dazed for a second, but then those intense, laser-blue eyes focus right on me.
“You,” he says.
“Yeah. It’s me,” I confirm.
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Spanish
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Already translated.
Translated by Maria Toro
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