Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51744 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
I updated the guys on the plane about what I learned, and why I was hustling to Phoenix. I’ve waited long enough, and if Avery’s living with her mom and not knowing she had a hand in our separation, I’m going to fix that.
I’m the only one who’s told her the truth all along. I’ve been there for Avery from the start. Ever since high school, she’s been the constant. The thing I’ve wanted. Loved. I gave my heart to her, which meant I would protect her. Cherish her. Possess her.
I’ve shown her how I can cherish and possess. Now I’ll protect.
Even if it’s from her mom.
An hour later, through some of the worst fucking traffic, we pull up in front of a ranch house. It’s in a subdivision of them, one after the other looking identical. Stucco, tile roof, one story. There’s no grass or greenery anywhere. Yards are made of decorative rock and cactus. I feel like I’ve landed on the moon. A very hot moon.
“Stay here,” I tell the guys.
“Like we’d leave the AC,” Miles says.
I smirk, leaving the car running as I hop out.
I ring the doorbell. No answer.
I ring again. Still no answer. I glance around, note that all the houses are quiet. Bikes and a few toys are strewn on driveways down the block, but no one’s out. It’s too fucking hot. I have to wonder if everyone behaves like vampires, only coming out at night when it’s cool.
On Avery’s front door is a decorative wreath. Kicked in the corner are a pair of worn cleats, and I wonder if Avery took up a sport. Maybe FBI softball games? Again, at midnight?
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself. But it’s the middle of the day so I return to the car and settle in.
“Pull up the FBI field office on your phone. Let’s head there,” I say to Miles.
He nods and fiddles until the phone voice tells me to head south for two blocks.
“It’s thirty minutes from here,” Miles says. “The map’s all red, meaning more fucking traffic.”
“If we’ve come here to sit in traffic all day, we need to stop for a drink. Hit the drive thru or a gas station,” Austin orders from the back. “Remind me of this weather when it’s December and there’s three feet of snow on the ground.”
I agree. I’m melting, but I’d rather be buried in snow than sweat to death. If we linger here, we’ll turn to fucking dust.
As I head out of Avery’s neighborhood, I vow to myself once I get Avery in my arms again, I’m never letting go, and I’m never going to come back.
25
AVERY
* * *
Debriefing sucks. It’s not enough that Jarvis and I filed our report, but now we have to sit in a conference room with the higher ups and justify everything we did on the case. At this point, I’m damned glad I didn’t take that information off the book from Hayes. Turns out, I didn’t need to pull Chance’s DNA from Grady’s hair strand. Just as well.
I’m on autopilot, answering the questions lobbed at me, while the conversation with my mother last night drones in my head.
“Jonathan Bridger didn’t write that letter.”
“No, baby. I did.” She shakes her head, a sob choking out of her throat. “It was cruel and it broke my heart to be so nasty to you, but I had to make sure you ’wouldn’t try to go back. And that’s not even the worst part.”
I swallow down the nausea that threatens to force itself up my throat. How could there be something worse than a mother ruining her daughter’s life? “What else? Nothing can possibly surprise me now.”
She draws in a deep breath, closes her eyes…and pauses.
“For Christ’s sake, Mom. Spit it all out, would you?” My patience is wearing thin, and the huge dinner is like a cannonball sitting in my gut.
“Bridger told me I was on notice. That when I heard from him, I had to be ready to hightail it out of town within twenty-four hours, and I’d better be sure you’d never look back.”
“Right.” I sigh. “I get it. You had the letter ready. Literally on standby for the guy.” I shake my head, wondering how my mother could be so damned harsh and brutal to her own daughter.
My God, the words she used…
It was fun, but it’s over. You’re good and all, but I can’t keep you. You have to know that. I’m a Bridger and you’re… well, you’re just another pussy I fucked at the spring.
The letter turned to ashes within an hour after I read it. Once Mom and I were on the road, I lit it afire and threw it out the car window.
“I had the letter ready, and once you read it, I knew you wouldn’t fight me on leaving. I had Jonathan Bridger’s money and hotels booked to get us here to Arizona.”