Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
My teeth clenched. I had this person pegged before I knew her.
She’s enjoying this.
“Now that Cavendish is dead and the leash is off, I’m offering my services to the highest bidder,” she explained. “I sent a few letters to Jeremy Ellis telling him that when he eventually failed against the Bedlam Boys, and he was meant to fail, I’d kill them for fifty grand.”
Zoey dropped that like a McDonald’s order.
“He kept up that he could handle this himself. That’s until the light show in the square. He hired me the second he woke up in the hospital. Only ten grand each. A bargain. Though I am missing one,” she muttered. “Should’ve waited, but we’ve waited so long to do this.”
My heart shot in my throat. One sentence penetrated.
“Kill them?” Tears stung as I took in the ropes, and the death she chose for them. “Don’t do this. You said you wouldn’t.”
“Well, when I said that, I didn’t have twenty-five grand in the bank. Keep up.”
Tears ran down my cheeks. Behind my back, I wriggled my wrists, working to get free.
“That said, I didn’t bring you out here to watch them die. If you do, that will be your choice.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that in honor of our past friendship, I’m willing to let you go in their place.” She motioned to the ledge above my head. “Jump and I let the Bedlam Boys go free.”
The guys shouted through their gag.
“Refuse, and I keep shooting these arrows till they’re either full of holes. Or I get lucky with my aim, catch the rope, and it snaps—gifting them a cold, watery death. Because you broke the rules again, Rainey. You told the police about me even though I’ve warned you over and over again. I treat you as a friend, but you haven’t done the same for me. It’s time I stopped giving you chances. You won’t talk me out of the decision coming your way. But you can delay it by indulging me and dragging the conversation out as long as you can. So.”
Zoey leaned over me and sliced my binds just like that. She backed up and leveled my bow on the guys.
“What’s it going to be?”
Straightening, I gripped the railing—cold metal biting my skin.
There were two trucks on either end of the bridge, blocking the opening. One was Cairo’s, and the other I saw in the police station parking lot most mornings.
Davidson.
I pushed the name away, focusing solely on Zoey and the healthy stash of arrows in her quiver.
If I keep her talking long enough, I can delay until someone tries to drive across the bridge and sees what’s happening here.
“How do I know you won’t hurt them anyway? I kill myself and then you loose those ropes, collecting another twenty-five grand.”
“If there’s anything I honor, Angel, it’s a sacrifice.” She said that with a seriousness she hadn’t used before. “If you give your life for them, they will be spared.”
“Okay,” I said clearly. “You win. How did you go from that sweet kid smiling with her friends, to a killer?”
“Ah, now that’s an interesting story,” she mused, pointing my bow at Cairo, Arsenio, Cairo, then Arsenio. She laughed as they shouted at her.
“I met Scott while he was working the youth center, and he saw something in me. By then, the bullies were harassing me just because they could. It stopped being about my name a long way back.
“Scott took me under his wing. He told me about my legacy and that the people I came from didn’t take shit from anybody. Then, he taught me how to make anyone who hurt me scream.” She winked. “He was a good friend to me. To us. But the guy was paranoid and locked under too many rules. He would not have approved of the little deal I made with the Crows.
“Last year, I made one mistake and he came down on me. Hard. It was no small relief when he got that death wish and ordered you to kill him. Now I’m free to do what I want.”
Scott Cavendish was her mentor and supposed friend, and she cheered his fiery death. That answered the question of if sociopaths could make friends they gave a real care about.
No.
“Why do you think we know each other?” I asked. I took a step closer.
“That’s far enough.” Zoey swung the bow on me. “Hands on the ledge at all times. If you let go”—she flashed and loosed an arrow that struck Arsenio’s thigh—“so do I.”
“Arsenio!”
His muffled cries shredded my heart in two.
“Stop it,” I screamed. “You said you wouldn’t if we talked.”
She shrugged. “I’m just demonstrating the consequences. I noticed that when I do, I never have to repeat myself.”
“You don’t.” I strangled the metal. “You don’t have to demonstrate. I’m listening to you. I’m giving you what you want.