Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35974 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 180(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
“You got hit pretty fuckin’ hard there, girl. No doubt you got a concussion. How exactly did you have it handled?”
She shrugged, and I knew she was getting ready to lie. I thought it would be better than what I’d got before, but apparently Hannah couldn’t lie worth a damn. “Dillon would have taken me home and I’d have slept it off.” Christ! The woman was looking everywhere but at my face, biting her lip for fuck’s sake. Like a little kid who knew she was in trouble, trying to make something up on the spot and failing miserably.
“You are soooo full of shit.” I chuckled, think I even snorted a little. “Stick to the truth, girl. You’re a horrible liar, and you can’t tell tall tales for crap. You need to learn to think on your feet if you’re gonna keep doin’ this shit.”
“Fuck you, Knuckles. And I’m not a little girl! You know I’m the same age as Gunnar, right?”
“Well, considering you’re his twin, I’d hope you were the same age. Also, Gunnar’s a kid next to me. You’re a kid next to him.”
It was like I’d flipped some kind of fucking switch. Hannah’s expression hardened. In the place of the vulnerable Hannah, the too innocent Hannah, and the angry spitfire Hannah, was a stone-cold killer. I knew the look intimately because I saw the same raw intent on the face I saw in the mirror every fucking morning.
“All right,” I said, nodding. I stood slowly. This was the woman I wanted to bring out to play. “I think I finally hit the jackpot.”
“What did you guys do with Dillon?” It was more of a demand than a question. She held herself loosely, readying herself for battle. I’d seen that look a lot too. Just before I was challenged in the yard. After that, I always pounded that same someone into the ground. Which wasn’t the best option this time.
“Why do you want to know?”
“So I can finish what I started tonight.”
“What’s that, Hannah? What did you start?”
“He’s a serial abuser, Knuckles. It’s escalating. Tonight was the last test, and he passed with flying colors.”
There was something in her eyes I didn’t like. I wasn’t sure I could put a name to it, but this was about more than punishing a piece of shit like Dillon. It was…
I cocked my head to the side in confusion. “You’re not doin’ this to punish Dillon.” When she opened her mouth, I spoke over her. “Not only to punish Dillon.” When she continued to stare at me, I continued. “You’re punishin’ yourself.”
“Think what you want, Knuckles. I can deny it all I want, but you’re gonna believe what you want. I have a purpose in life. A way to make the right people pay. There’s no way anyone can deny what they did.”
I thought for a moment about everything she’d said. And about what she hadn’t. I knew she was planning on leaving the second I turned my back. I’d have to be blind not to see her intent. Or stupid. And I was neither. “Knight says Dillon went home. Been keepin’ tabs on the place and he’s not left since he got there.”
“Good. Tell Knight thank you for me.”
“You tell him yourself.”
She shrugged and turned to go to her room. I knew I should follow her and demand she not lock the door. And that she stay put and rest. I also knew it wouldn’t do a Goddamned bit of good. Hannah was more like Gunnar than I’d first pegged her for. It was because she was a woman. It had been a long fucking time since I’d had to read a woman in anything other than a prison environment. I had no idea how to pick up on the subtle cues from her that were imperative to staying alive where I came from. It was both unnerving and exhilarating.
It wasn’t long before I heard a small thump. I stood and strolled to Hannah’s room, opening the door she hadn’t bothered to lock. She’d likely known I’d just break the door down if she did and was trying to save her house from any major damage. The window in her bedroom was open, the breeze moving the sheers in a gentle wave.
I chuckled as I took out my phone and texted Knight.
Me: She’s gone.
Knight: Got her. Car GPS.
Me: I’m headed that way. Eyes open.
Knight: Sending Chains and Hawk as backup.
Me: Tell Torpedo.
Knight: Tell him yourself.
“Fucker.” I couldn’t help the smile as I tucked my phone in my pocket, checked my knife, then tucked it in the waistband of my pants. I’d prefer my gun, but being an ex-con makes carrying one not the best option. Next was my throat mike and earpiece. Both tested out OK with Knight, so I headed out to my bike. No need to hurry. I knew where Hannah was going, and I’d know if she got into trouble and needed help.