Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I am only ready for one thing.
I zip to my parents’ house. It’s three in the morning, so I try not to make noise. I find Mom’s address book and then search the internet for a photo.
I close my eyes and envision going to Kyle’s. I have a score to settle with my brother, and it’s time to end this.
I blink, and I roll my eyes. Figures. Kyle’s DC townhouse is pretty posh, complete with security cameras and motion-activated floodlights. The question is, is he home?
I go right up to the door and ring the bell. I’m not here to be sly, sneak attack, or draw him out. This shit’s happening man-to-man. Face-to-face. Out in the open.
After a few moments, the lights upstairs come on. “I know you see me, Kyle. Get out here and face me like a man, you pussy!”
Nothing happens, so I yell, “I’m going to rip off that tiny dick of yours and shove it up your asshole, you motherfucker! Get down here.” He thinks he can kidnap River, threaten my parents, and try to have me killed, and I won’t have something to say about it? “Kyle! You sack of shit! Come out here, or I’ll come inside.”
Suddenly, I hear an elderly woman’s voice echo from the window. “Son, there is no Kyle here. You have the wrong house.”
“Oh, isn’t this one-one-three Jefferson Circle?”
“No. This is Jefferson Place.”
Oops. “Sorry about the noise, ma’am.”
I pull up my phone and try again, this time with the correct address. I zip straight there, but after ringing the bell, I can tell no one’s home, so I leave a note: I’m coming for you, Kyle, and there’s nowhere you can run. I sign it with a little heart. That’s right, Just Mr. Love has you on his shitlist, buddy.
I’m about to go back to River when that nagging feeling in my gut acts up. She begged me to get Sam out of Clover. He’s the last person I want to help, but fuck me, I kind of have to. I’ve put River through so much already, and leaving him there isn’t going to make things better between us.
God, I’m such a sucker. I rip off what’s left of my scrubs after lumber-therapy and check that my bulletproof vest is secure. I visualize Clover and zip right into Sam’s room, but Sam isn’t in it.
“Great.” I open the door to look for him—and I’m greeted by a wall of men in camo with guns. They’re all facing away, getting yelled at by Kyle.
“You find that girl! And then you find my fucking brother and kill…” Kyle’s voice trails off the moment he notices me standing there. The men turn, reaching for their weapons, but freeze like they’re usure what to do. Shoot me? Run? Surrender?
“You actually came in person to see I’m killed properly?” I say. I don’t know why I’m surprised. Kyle was always the guy who wanted to be at the center of attention.
“Want a job done right, gotta get your hands dirty,” he replies.
“Dirty is the perfect word to describe you, Kyle.” I know I can take him. I can go right around these guys, come up behind him, and snap his neck.
Do it, Huff, I tell myself. Do it. He tried to have me killed. He still wants me dead. He took River. He had my parents’ house raided. He terrorized millions of people with his poisoned-water hoax. Kyle is a bad, bad man.
I can do this. I can kill him. I zip around the men and grab hold of Kyle.
I don’t know why, but I take us straight to Joy’s grave.
“Fucking Huff! Take me back,” Kyle yells.
“Or what, Kyle? What will you do? Put Mom and Dad in jail? Have me locked away for experiments?”
It’s dark out, but I see the subtle look of worry in his hard facade. He’s realizing he’s stuck here without help. He’s at my mercy.
“I’m sorry,” he says, “but some things are more important than you, Huff. It’s a lesson you’ve never been able to learn.”
I point to Joy’s headstone. “You mean like how after she was killed, you used her death to gain notoriety? Or how you made a name for yourself by becoming a media whore?”
“I had a calling I couldn’t ignore.”
“You used her death to launch your political career. You never cared about getting justice for Joy.” In fact, when we went after the girls who killed Joy, their families offered thirty million dollars to settle out of court. Kyle wanted to take it. He tried to convince me and my parents, too. But if we had, we would’ve been banned from speaking about Joy’s death, and they would never have to admit any guilt. I was the one who convinced my parents not to settle. Eventually, the girls, now women, went to prison.