Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 105813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105813 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
The refrigerator motor hummed. The clock on the wall ticked. The room waited.
He burst out in laughter. Threw his head back, barking a goddamn cackle into the rafters. The skin around his eyes wrinkled, and his over-gelled hair didn’t move with his bobbing head.
When he righted himself, he sniffed, as if dismissing his momentary loss of poise. His fingers steepled against his mouth as he studied me, his gaze weighted in thought. “You sent the watches?”
Well, fuck, he was quick. I nodded. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jed ease off the trigger without removing his focus from Collin. Maybe I could disarm him, but he would pull that trigger before I covered the six-foot distance.
Trent walked to Collin and circled behind the chair to put his hands on Collin’s stiff shoulders, giving them a squeeze without an ounce of affection. “I had this vision, Logan, that my son and I would control Trenchant Media, that I would be proud to hand the company down to him when I retired.”
Collin closed his eyes, a swallow bouncing in his throat.
I had no idea if he was referring to me or Collin. I held my arms loose at my sides as I racked my brain for a way out of this madness.
Trent stared down at Collin’s head. “Part of this vision was to see Kaci married to my son. Her parents are loyal partners, and I’m rather fond of her.”
My stomach turned, and it took everything I had to keep my foot on the floor rather than slamming it into his face. When he met my eyes, I ground out, “Is that why you forced her to remain employed after I stole her job?”
He sighed. “I was suspicious of her interest in the racing syndicate, specifically her interest in Evader. I needed her close while I considered whether or not to place that bet against Evad— you.” His eyes hardened. “I knew she would eventually lead me to you.”
So he could kill me and ensure the outcome of the race. Anger bubbled up, and I swallowed it back. “How did you know about her interest in the races? Who snitched about the files on the server?”
He stared at me as if he wasn’t going to tell me. But if he intended to kill me, why did it matter?
Straightening the sleeves of his jacket, he met my eyes. “Hal Pinkerton was pulling the racing information for me long before he began feeding it to her. I left that trap open for her the moment I discovered she was looking for the information. Then I sat back and waited to see what she would do with it.”
My fucking head swam through the what-ifs. If I hadn’t sent the watches and prompted Trent’s interest, Kaci wouldn’t have obtained the racing schematics and gained access to the races. We wouldn’t have met as Evader and Miss Ducati. I wouldn’t have traded places with Holden at the nightclub. We would’ve began in the office as strangers without our tense yet fiercely solid connection.
“I hoped…” Trent removed his hands from Collin’s shoulders. “That something would’ve evolved between her and my newly found son”—he gave me a pointed look—“so I could, as they say, keep it in the family.”
My face heated. “You have a sick sense of family, considering the gun currently pressed against your son’s head.”
“I only have one biological son.” He narrowed a disgusted look at Collin. “This faggot isn’t him.”
My lungs froze, and Collin jerked, twisting at his waist to stare up at Trent. His chest heaved as he spoke through clenched teeth. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, you worthless little shit, that your mother fucked one of our business partners.” His tone was deadly calm. “You are not my goddamned son.”
Oh, fuck. Dread curled in my stomach.
A pained expression distorted Collin’s face. “Who? Where is he?”
Trent’s face softened, and the gentle pat he gave Collin’s back made the skin on my back crawl. “Your father was some gangly banker prick from Detroit. He was also a pussy. He sobbed and pissed his pants when I killed him.”
Collin cringed away from Trent’s hand, his face red-hot, his jaw locked with rage.
My chest ached, and my hands clenched. My empathy with Collin was met with the godawful memory of my mother’s death. I pushed that away as my mind struggled through the implications. We weren’t brothers. Collin wasn’t his son, which was why he would send Collin to prison and why he had no intentions of letting Collin survive the night.
The distressed look on Collin’s face said he was coming to the same conclusion.
Yet Trent hadn’t killed us. There was more. I could feel it gathering like an approaching storm.
Trent stepped to the other side of Jed, and that movement alone ratcheted my fear. He essentially moved himself out of the path of the bullet that would exit Collin’s head.