Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“After this is done, Jack, don’t call me again. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.”
The determination in his voice and his steady eye contact reveal everything I need to know.
We turn our heads to keep watch.
To wait.
He has aged since the photo I saw in the local rag cheering his promotion. Deep lines score around his mouth, and his neck has thickened. Neither of us is the same as we were before this job grounded the good out of us.
He betrayed me, but tonight, we’ll call it quits.
He can return to his life in the force.
And I can return to mine in the forest.
I know who’ll be happier.
The tracker’s dot blinks on the map on my phone screen.
So close, it continues the last part of its journey. I shove the phone into my pocket and fix my eyes on the road.
Carter’s chrome-colored Cadillac Escalade turns into the lot bang on eight-fifteen as had been agreed between him and Bones.
He’s expecting to meet the Shadow Outlaws to seal the deal. They’re getting the drugs for a reduced price if they tell him where Skye is. His desperate drive to find her and destroy her clouded his mind and made him sloppy.
The engine cuts, three doors swing open simultaneously, and all three men are immediately recognizable from the pictures.
Carter fucking Reynolds. Devon Webster. Keith Morgan.
This has to work.
Their heads swivel on the lookout for threats of danger.
I readjust my position in the seat.
Bill coughs but doesn’t take his eyes off the prize. “Son of a fucking bitch.”
I don’t respond but take note of Carter’s confident swagger. He’s shorter than I expected. Another smile twists my lips.
I allow myself a moment to imagine my hands gripping tightly around his neck, choking, and squeezing the life out of him. In my imagination, his face glitches, becoming my stepfather and then returning to Carter’s. Their sickening smirks match almost identically—two evil peas from the same degenerate pod.
The three men approach Bones and his sidekicks slowly. Devon and Keith finger inside their jackets where they’re concealing weapons. They have parked close enough to minimize their exposure to anyone lurking in the parameter.
I glance at my phone. No call from West. They didn’t bring backup. No need to resort to plan b. I power off my phone.
Carter’s arrogant walk says it all. He thinks the Shadow Outlaws are small-time operators. He doesn’t see them as a threat.
That’s going to be a mistake that will cost him.
A brief conversation takes place, with Carter taking the lead. All six men in the scene throw their heads back and laugh at something he says.
Bill’s ragged breathing is distracting. His lungs are fucked from smoking too much and doing no exercise.
Bones signals for Lester to lift up the case of cash. Carter looks back and nods to one of his men.
And then it all happens so quickly.
Ethan bursts out from the rear door of the bar, stumbling backward and losing his balance, crashing down with force against the ground and grunting at the impact.
The moment Carter and his goons turn to see the commotion, Bones pulls out a baseball bat and smacks it hard against the back of Carter’s skull.
Lester and Arman draw weapons just before Devon and Keith can raise theirs. Carter falls to the ground, and I seize my moment and leap from the Defender.
The lumberjacks emerge from the tree line, roaring like savages, their numbers enough to make Carter’s men falter. They lower their weapons and drop them to the ground, slowly raising their arms.
“Take the shit,” Devon says as Lester grabs his arms and yanks them behind him.
“Take it and keep the money. We’ll go. We don’t want any trouble,” Keith grunts.
So much for loyalty. I guess when you’re an asshole like Carter, loyalty is hard to come by.
Carter groans on the ground, twisting in the dirt and clutching at the back of his head. Bones must have hit him hard. Not hard enough to kill him, I hope.
I get the sack over his head and shoulders as Arman, backed up by Nathan and Liam, hauls Devon and Keith until their faces press against the brickwork of Reggie’s bar. West appears from inside, his rifle pointing menacingly at Carter.
Carter wriggles and kicks, crawling and moaning, but he’s too concussed to resist. I drag his body over to Bill’s car, and once I’m up against the Defender, I tie the sack firmly in place around his neck and reach into the car for ties to secure his hands and feet.
He’s a small man but still a heavy half-dead weight. Bill doesn’t help me get him into the trunk, but that’s nothing new. Bill always was a selfish asshole.
I glance back at Reggie’s. West is outside now. It’s my instinct to barrel into the fray and back him up, but that’s not my role tonight.