Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“Where is it?”
“Don’t worry about it. We make the call, find out if Mom has been with him, and then we hang up. Until Benny is gone, you need to stay away from Chase.”
“I got it. No one is more certain of that than me.”
“Well, just don’t forget.”
I glared at him. “I got it.”
A boom sounded from down the hallway. Viv appeared and strolled toward us with three long joints. Each must’ve been six inches long.
I forced a fake smile. “You’re not playing.”
“No, I’m not.” She set them on the table. “So ... are you both still arguing about the differences between psychopath and sociopath?”
“Pretty much.” I shrugged. “Sociopathy is usually the product of childhood trauma and/or physical and emotional abuse. Benny told me that his mother and father beat him. They had him boxing, too, at a really young age.”
“He’s a psychopath. Why are you even listening to that? He told me that same shit. It’s all lies. He talked about fighting in that pub nicknamed the Bucket of Blood. Well I looked it up, and that shit was called that in early nineteenth century London. That was long ago. It hasn’t been hosting bare-knuckle fist fights in a long ass time, and certainly not when Benny was a kid.”
My face twisted into confusion. “That can’t be right.”
“Check it for yourself. In fact, I bet he’s not even from London. He’s a psychopath, which means that he was born with that madness. His brain has a defect, and there’s no talking your way out of that. You will die.”
Pulling out a long lighter covered in pink skulls, Vivian lit one of the joints. “As usual, Troy is more hopeful than ever.”
Chapter 13
Chase
Before Sophia and I headed off to the airport, I had a limo take a quick stop down memory lane. My empty stomach bellowed in pain. And to get my mind off of hunger, I thought of Jasmine, which always led me back to food.
“Where are we going?” Sophia asked. “The airport is the other way.”
“I want to stop by Mama Jane’s Pit real quick.”
“Boy, what you know about Mama Jane’s?” Sophia laughed.
“Jasmine has me addicted to the baguffins.”
“She’s good for that. Just like Benny, she always can point you to the best place to eat in any area. Which type of baguffin do you like?”
“Monkey bread.”
“Remind me to give my daughter a high-five.”
I hope I see her again.
Fear prickled against my skin. “I’ll do that.”
Once we stocked up on good coffee and mouthwatering baked treats, we headed to the airport.
I had a whole team scanning every one of Benny’s aliases. It took them five hours to give me a report. The good news, ten out of the fifty aliases were active. The bad news, ten out of the fifty were active, and all in different parts of Europe. On an optimistic note, he had to be using one of them now. I’d just have to find out which name. And if I had to go from country to country, city to city, I would.
By the afternoon, we sat on my private plane, which was headed to Paris. We hadn’t taken off yet. Jasmine loved French food. It made sense that Benny would want to cater to her loves. One of the aliases were active there, in a five star hotel right in the heart of the city.
Perhaps he took her to Paris. Would it be that easy? Maybe. I bet he never thought that I would find his aliases.
I looked at Jasmine’s mother, who sat several rows behind me.
Waiting for the plane to take off, Sophia sat in the main cabin, feasting on lobster and chocolate strawberries. Once she realized I had a chef on board, the baguffins weren’t enough to fill her. At her request, I’d brought my personal masseuse to keep her busy. Once we were in the air, Sophia would get a full body massage scheduled in an hour.
I didn’t think the woman could be trusted, but she’d gotten me further than I would’ve ever been on my own. In that respect, she’d get everything she damn well wanted, until Jasmine returned.
On the other side of the airport, a handcuffed Sherman sat on another private plane that I’d borrowed from a friend. My buddy Pierre didn’t even ask. He’d been at the ball, knew something drove me toward danger, and wanted to help. He obliged me, and understood that I paid back every last favor. Any problem that came to Pierre, I would help him with.
So Sherman rode Pierre’s plane that would fly off in an hour after us. Four men guarded him. I never told Sophia. She remained busy with my spoiling as I tried to make sense of the madness.
Benny’s madness.
Sipping Mama Jane’s dark roast, I read more of Benny’s journal and hoped the plane would be ready to take off soon.