Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
He snorted.
“That cunt’s dead. Unfortunate accident, couldn’t be helped. Let’s hope we don’t have any more of those, sound good?”
“Sounds good,” I whispered, closing my eyes as he ended the call.
Wow. Just … wow … How was this happening?
Amber. It always came back to Amber. I wanted to strangle her, but then a wave of guilt hit me because she was already dead. God, I’d hated her so much over the years, but I loved her, too, and the thought of her bloodied body being dumped somewhere filled me with agonized sorrow.
Detach. DETACH. You can do this. You have to do this. Doesn’t matter how much you like Reese, he’s just a man and your girl needs you. Life is about choices.
I knew what my choice had to be—the same one I’d made six years ago.
Jessica was a child of my family.
Saving her had to come first.
Things got weird after that.
There’s an understatement for you.
I considered calling Nate. I considered telling Reese. I considered driving to California with a gun and shooting people until they gave me back my little girl.
In the end, I decided to do what he told me, because Jessica’s life was at stake. End of story. There wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do to save her. I’d beg, borrow, steal, kill … I’d give every one of those men the best blow job they’d ever had, if I thought it would make a difference.
But they didn’t want me—they wanted Reese’s papers, and I’d find them if it killed me.
I’d do it because I was Jessica’s mother. The only real one she’d ever had. Fuck you, Amber. Fuck you all the way to hell. I’d become Jessie’s mother the hard way, cradling her tiny body in my arms in the NICU, holding her as she cried after her first boyfriend dumped her.
Dragging her out of the Reapers clubhouse in the middle of the night.
Jessica was a pain in my ass and she’d screwed up plenty, but this? This was all on Amber. Beyond that first burst of involuntary pain, I refused to let myself grieve for her. That bitch was lucky she was already dead, and that’s the fucking truth.
Because life is surreal, I still had to work that afternoon or people would’ve gotten suspicious. This turned out to be a good thing. There’s nothing like hard, physical labor to clear your mind. One of my crew leads had the day off, so I found myself cleaning a local attorney’s office downtown. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the assassin who worked for the club. I’d bet there were all sorts of interesting papers in that guy’s office, ones that might buy Jessica some time.
We also cleaned Pawns that night.
Usually Bolt was in the back room—so far as I could tell he slept on a cot in the storeroom half the time. I’d assumed he was just crashing there out of convenience, but based on our conversation at the mall, Maggs had thrown him out.
He wasn’t actually at the store that night, but I decided it would be stupid to break into his office and search for papers. The whole place was probably wired up with cameras—it was a pawn shop, for God’s sake, which meant it was full of valuable, portable merchandise. The real question wasn’t whether the cameras were there, but whether they would still work if the power was cut.
Something to think about, because if I fucked up, they’d chop off another piece of Jessica.
Reese had asked me to come back out to the Armory that evening after I finished my jobs, but conveniently I didn’t get done until after ten. That meant I wasn’t lying when I told him I was too exhausted. I drove out to his house instead, fingering the black smart phone thoughtfully. If I got lucky, I’d have most of the night to search. I couldn’t imagine he’d be home any time soon—maybe he’d even crash at the Armory. God, I hoped so. I wasn’t sure I could look him in the face without giving anything away.
We’d slept on the couch last night, the same couch where—
Shit. If he slept at the Armory, who would he be sleeping with? Could I really trust him not to cheat on me with so many willing, available women running around all the time? A wave of jealousy hit me, but I squashed it because that was fucking crazy. I was doing my best to betray him and the people he loved most to an evil stranger who liked to cut fingers off young women.
So far as I could tell, that sort of trumped the jealous-girlfriend bit.
God, I would miss him …
If we both lived through this, I’d be lucky if he didn’t kill me himself. Not an idle concern, either. I’d heard the rumors—I knew what the Reapers were capable of. But I’d also heard that they didn’t take out anyone who didn’t deserve it.