Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Shane was disorder. He was filth. Cain was disorder. Mason’s little bitch foster kid was disorder. She was the only one who could ID me at any of the crime scenes. She had been there that night at The Jar.
I should have done her first. Dante had said no, saying he had a soft spot for her. I knew it was just because she was a hot piece of trim.
Of course, that little piggy had gotten herself married to a fucking FBI agent, which made it a fuckload harder to kill her. Even though I was starting to doubt she’d seen me at all.
But she wasn’t at the top of the list. Shane’s woman was. I hated him most of all. I was going to make him suffer.
And I was starting to think he was on to me.
I’d seen him riding around the area, his massive custom bike looking like hell on wheels. He liked to roam. Most bikers did. But out here? It wasn’t exactly scenic. Nobody came out here.
So yeah, that fucker was going to have to be dealt with. Sooner rather than later. I’d have his green eyes in my jar to go with the baby blues.
But first, I wanted to make him suffer. And the worst pain in the world was losing someone you loved. There was nothing worse.
That’s what Dante had said anyway. He’d had a heart, even if it was twisted. I’d never loved anyone in my life. I understood loyalty though. And Shane had killed the person I was most loyal to in the world.
I was going to take his girl. I didn’t know if she had old lady status yet, but she lived with him. And she was pretty too. So it wouldn’t be fun to think about someone ruining all that prettiness. Cutting her up into little bits.
Maybe I’d send him a finger. Or an ear. Or a cheek.
Soon. He’ll be crying soon.
I rolled up the rope and tucked it under my jacket. I had duct tape and zip ties too. I had pliers and my hunting knife, as well as a several smaller knives, including a scalpel. I needed everything with me so I could work remotely. I couldn’t bring her back here. I had to catch her somewhere near a nice quiet place to work. Someplace we could have some privacy. I didn’t want to be rushed with this one.
I wanted to make her sing.
Chapter Thirty
Parker
“Take this out back, but don’t dawdle. We’re swamped.” Jaken handed me some bags full of trash with an apologetic glance. “Sorry, the bar back is off tonight, of all nights.”
“It’s okay,” I said with a cheerful smile. I was so freaking happy there was no way I was complaining about a little trash duty. I felt like I was walking on air. I was almost deliriously overjoyed. Shane and I were together for real now. I thought so, anyway.
He hadn’t exactly said that, but I want you to have my babies kind of indicated we were.
I used my hip to open the back door and swung out into the cool night air. I took a deep breath. Even with the faint smell of garbage, the air was nice. It was muggy in the bar, full of warm bodies and the stench of beer. I was usually gone by this time of night, but they’d had two waitresses call in sick. So Michelle and I were picking up the slack. Even Mason was working the floor and helping out.
It wasn’t a bad thing though. I was having a blast. I felt like I was a part of a team, and I was actually getting pretty good at my job.
After being useless for so long, it felt good to be doing something with purpose. And I was making damn good tips doing it, too.
I opened the lid to the dumpster with one arm and heaved one bag up and over with my other. It took pretty much all of my strength to manage the dumpster. I wrinkled my nose at the smell, rubbing my fingertips together. I would definitely be washing up before I handled food or drink. I swung the other bag up and over and froze.
There was something pressed into my back.
A gun, I realized. I wasn’t sure how I knew what it was, but I did. I knew it in my bones. And I knew it was loaded.
I could hear rough breathing. Someone was behind me, holding a gun to my back. I inhaled sharply, a tiny sip of air. My mind went racing in a thousand different directions.
Was this a simple mugging? Or something worse? Was this the killer everyone had warned me about?
I closed my eyes and tried to think.
Be practical, Parker! Be smart!
If I screamed, would he shoot? Would anyone even hear me over the exhaust fan and the music and loud voices inside? How long would it be until someone noticed I was gone? The Jar was packed. I could be anywhere.