Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Doing okay?” He met her gaze, a thousand more questions swirling in his crystal blue eyes.
“Muy bien.” She really wanted to know how he was holding up, but if she asked, he’d give her a similar bullshit answer. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
When she told her team a few months ago that she’d asked Van for help with this phase of her plan, Tate had blown a gasket. But if Liv could trust Van—enough to let him be part of their daughter’s life—they could rely on him for this.
“Van doesn’t scare me.” Tate crossed his arms, the sleeves of his t-shirt straining across his biceps. “I’m not going anywhere, Camila.”
He hadn’t left her side since the day she rescued him. They lived together, worked together, his shadow always hovering like a protective brother. Except the way he watched her was more like a boyfriend. One who refused to have sex with her.
Maybe he kept her in the friend zone because of what they’d been through. Or maybe it was because of what she’d become.
“This is going to be unpleasant.” She approached the table where Larry lay motionless, his arms and legs bubbling with sores. She gave Tate a stern look, silently reminding him she was going to break another law. Murder another man. Throw away another body. “You can go before—”
“Stop.” He gripped her jaw and brought his mouth to her ear, his voice low. “I owe you my life, so just…shut the fuck up about it.”
“Fine.” She turned her head, breaking his hold.
As the first slave to be freed, she spent six years helping Liv extricate Tate and the others. That included dismantling Mr. E’s operation, killing the buyers, and using her connection with Matias to dispose of the bodies.
The freed slaves could’ve gone back to their lives if they’d had families or something to return to. They didn’t, instead joining Camila in her effort to take down a new trafficking ring—the one Larry worked for.
“He’s still not talking?” She prodded at the gangrenous, pus-filled flesh on Larry’s forearm.
“No.” Liv frowned, the scar on her cheek wrinkling. “I have to leave in a couple hours.”
“You have Livana this weekend?”
“Yes.” The tightness around Liv’s mouth relaxed, replaced with the warm glow of maternal love.
Van and Liv shared joint custody with Livana’s adoptive mother. It was a strange arrangement, one they fervently protected. Which meant they kept their involvement in Camila’s illegal activities to a minimum. Had it been Van’s weekend with Livana, he wouldn’t have permitted Camila and her team of ex-slave vigilantes anywhere near his house.
Larry flicked open his eyes and thrashed his head, his rotten flesh tearing beneath the cinch straps.
To think, addicts purposefully shot themselves up with this shit. Cheap ingredients, easy to make, and a killer high? Yeah, no thanks.
She touched the abscess on his arm, and a layer of skin the width of her hand slid free and splatted on Amber’s pristine garage floor. Her stomach revolted.
“Shit.” Tate rubbed the back of his neck. “Amber’s going to have a full-on seizure when she sees that.”
Not if they cleaned—
Holy fuck, was that a bone shining through the hole in Larry’s arm? Bile simmered in the back of her throat.
“What are you doing to me?” Larry groaned, his eyes clearing.
Good, he was lucid. She turned to grab a syringe, but Liv was already there, holding it out for her.
“This,” Camila said, positioning the needle an inch from Larry’s flaccid dick, “is Krokodil. It’s been eating you from the inside out. Given the dead flesh on your arms and legs, I bet your guts don’t feel very good right now.”
“You fucking bitch.” He shifted his hips, unable to distance himself from the syringe. “Get away from me. I need a fucking doctor.”
“Sure.” She sweetened her tone. “Just tell me who you work for.”
He dropped his head back and fell still. Gaze-locked-on-the-ceiling still. Something seemed to settle over him, the tension in his body draining away. Resignation? The motherfucker better not be giving up.
“Whatever you do to me,” he said, eerily calm, “his retaliation will be tenfold. You have no idea who you’re fucking with, you stupid cunt.”
Tenfold? Maybe so. Whomever he worked for would probably go after his family.
“I’m going to put maggots on this.” She traced a finger around the rotted cavern in his arm. “Move along the whole zombie thing you’ve got going on.”
Tate grimaced, looking as nauseated as she felt. Liv somehow managed a bored expression.
“Do it.” Larry closed his eyes. “I don’t fucking care.”
Okay, forget the maggots. She jabbed the needle into the root of his dick.
His back flew off the table, the rest of him restrained by straps as he screamed and flailed.
Holding onto the syringe, she hovered her thumb over the plunger and waited for him to calm down. “When and where is the girl supposed to be dropped? Give me that, and I won’t rot off your junk.”