Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
That breaks my heart.
“Celeste doesn’t know Darth is dead,” I whisper. “That means I have to tell her.”
Cade nods. “I can’t give her closure, sugar, because I don’t know where they dumped him. All I know is we can at least let her know he’s gone. It’ll be a hard thing for her to process.”
My heart breaks for her.
For all of them.
Being tangled up in a world that you thought would help you, and in the end, it was the reason your life was cut short.
Darth and Clara were young, they were in love, and they thought they could have a life filled with riches and good things, that they could do better than the life they were raised in, and because of that, they chose the wrong path. Nobody is to blame for that, and I’ll do everything in my power to help Cade find Clara, so at the very least, the two of them can have closure.
He deserves it, but mostly, so does she.
This puzzle needs to be pieced back together so that everyone can heal.
Finally.
24
Cade
“Answer the mother fuckin’ question,” I growl, my hand around the throat of a local dealer who I have managed to trace back to Darth.
It has taken some time, to go from telling Celeste Darth was gone, and finding out every name she knew of every person in his life. Then, I had to go to each person, and through them, I slowly started piecing together a story. That story led me here, to a small-town dealer who no doubt put Darth on the wrong path to begin with.
He might know who he went to, to get those new identities, or at the very least, who was making them around that time. These fuckers know the ins and outs of everything. They might be small time dealers, but they’ve got their noses in everyone’s fucking business. They’re the worms beneath the dirt, poking their heads out, taking note, but keeping out of everyone's way.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezes, pulling at my arms to try to make me stop squeezing tighter with each passing second.
“Here’s the thing. I’ve been around longer than you, boy, and I know for a fuckin’ fact that you’re lyin’ to me. You know how I know?”
His eyes dart away.
“That right there. You can’t look me in the eye. You’re tryin’ to cover someone's ass, but let me tell you, it’s your own you should be worried about. Do you have any fuckin’ idea what I’ll do to you?”
“Yes,” he yells. “I know who you are, but I’m telling the truth, I don’t know anything.”
Shrugging, all while keeping him against the wall, I reach into my pocket and pull out a small knife. Bringing it up, I move it in front of his face and his eyes widen. Then, I flip the blade and slowly push it toward his eyeball, until he’s squirming, desperately trying to keep the blade from touching his flesh. It’s mere millimeters away. With one wrong move, it’ll take his eye out.
“I don’t have to kill you to make you squeal, in fact, it’s more fun this way. You don’t need your eyes, do you? I’m sure you know your way around these streets by now.”
Touching just the tip of the blade to his eye surface, he squeals, just like I knew he would.
“Okay,” he cries. “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.”
“That’s what I thought,” I say, lowering the knife. “Speak.”
“I did know Darth, but not well. He did come to me for information on how to get new identities and I gave him a name. I don’t know anything after that.”
“I don’t have all fuckin’ day. Are you goin’ to tell me a name?”
“His name is Jarrod James. He isn’t in this area anymore, but he was the one doing them at the time.”
“Where is he now?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I’m telling the truth.”
His eyes don’t waver, and now, I know he is finally telling the truth. Releasing him from the wall, I tuck the knife back into my pocket. “Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”
Turning, he rushes away.
I move out of the alley I found him in, and back to where Spike is waiting on the bikes. He didn’t come in with me, just in case the little fucker tried to get away, we’d have eyes everywhere. Reaching the bike, I throw my leg over and glance at Spike, who is grinning at me.
“What?”
“The eyeball, that’s a new one.”
I grunt. “I felt extra creative. You should have been here watchin’ instead of spyin’ on me like some kind of fuckin’ agent.”
Spike laughs, starting his bike. “You know I can’t stay out of the good stuff. Where are we goin’ now?”
“To find a man named Jarrod James. He has the information we need.”