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)
Jacques, Arsenio, Cairo, and Legend glared at me.
“What?” I said, unrepentant. “We all want to know. Won’t find out until we ask.”
Ivy laughed. “That’s what you’re all thinking right now? Oh my goodness, you five are ridiculous. Of course I’m not going to kill your moms. You’d break up with me.”
She genuinely sounded like that was her only problem with that option.
“That’s the only reason?” Jacques asked, echoing my thought.
She shrugged. “I have no loyalty to them, but I am loyal to you. I’m not going to harm them. I’m just going to take back what’s mine.” Hooded eyes met ours in turn. “That won’t be a problem... will it?”
“No problem for us.” I didn’t have to think about it. “Whether you run the town or they own the town, the job’s the same. We protect what’s ours—Bedlam and you.”
Ivy moved from me to the others.
“That’s right,” Jacques said.
“You will never not belong to me,” Arsenio added.
“I’m a rich man either way,” Legend said. “What do I care if there’s a little less from her half of the inheritance?”
Everyone spoke up except for Cairo. He stared at the window—no longer acknowledging us or the conversation. Ivy visibly tensed.
I changed the subject. This required a deeper conversation, and industrial tools to remove Cairo’s head from his ass. None of that was happening in that cramped car with a full trunk.
“Where are we going to go? Hunter’s Crest? They have vacation cabins on the outskirts,” I said. “We can rent one under fake names.”
“Too risky,” said Jacques. “You have to show ID to get a cone from an ice cream truck these days. We don’t have fakes, or enough money to bribe a receptionist not to care.”
“What about our guests in the trunk?” Legend asked. “I’m not hauling two counts of twenty to life around with us. We need to figure out something to do with them. Now.”
“While we’re talking about the Black Letter Crew, there’s something you need to know,” Ivy began.
“What is it?”
“It was a tight thing getting Jack out of there. Quinn waited until past time to tell me where he was. I had to speed the whole way. I ended up at an old bed-and-breakfast at the end of town, and I wasted more time searching all the rooms for him. I finally found him when I heard a car pull up.”
I bolted up. “Did they see you?”
“No. It wasn’t easy with two busted arms, but I got Jack out through the broken window. It’s how he cut his neck,” she said. “But it’s when they came into the room. I looked back for a split second and, guys, I saw their faces.”
She had all our attention—including Cairo.
“It was two men. Our age. Got to be university students.” Ivy tried withdrawing from Legend and didn’t get anywhere. “Jacques, love, I appreciate your commitment to privacy, but I didn’t go to school with these people my whole life. I didn’t recognize them. You need to tell me about the nine we picked so I can tell if it’s one of them.”
“Describe them.”
“One of them had long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Thin. Small eyes, small mouth, and large nose—”
“Jackson Hyde.”
“Hyde,” I sputtered, recalling the anime-loving nerd from high school who always sat alone at a lunch table, scribbling in his notebook. “He’s in the Black Letter Crew?”
“I’m not surprised,” Jacques said. “I took a look in his room this week and it was an altar to death. Serial killer books and movies. Posters for true crime podcasts. He was one of the three I couldn’t prove was in the Crew, but highly suspected he was.”
“Describe the other one,” Cairo demanded.
“Short dark hair. Attractive. Square jaw and light brown eyes. Taller than Hyde, and in good shape.” She flicked between us. “Anything?”
Sharing looks, we shook our heads one after the other.
“I know too many guys that fit that description,” I said.
“A description that doesn’t match any of the nine,” Jacques added. “Was there anything else about him? Tattoo? Piercing? Expensive clothes?”
“No, sorry. No tattoos or piercings, and his clothes just looked normal to me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I jerked a thumb behind me. “We’ve got two people who can help us fill in the blanks. Jacques, make a U-turn, I know where to go. It’s time we end this shit.”
QUINN
“Wake up. Wake up!”
I peeled my eyes open and fucking sunbeams assaulted them. I winced, snapping them shut.
“Not again, Cunningham. If you slip back into your coma, this is going to end early for you.”
Coma? That sounded nice right about now.
My body was the living definition of agony. Each breath was a hot poker through my chest. Fractured and broken bones. Bleeding nose. Busted lip. And my hair.
That bitch cut my hair.
Fury surged through me, burning through the pain and sluggishness. I forced my eyes open, focusing past the flashlights in my face to... her.