Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“I do not,” I say simply. “And your next envelope will be three times its normal size to prove it.”
He lets out a long, exhausted sigh. “Fuck you, Crowley.”
“Pleasure as always, Chief. Say hello to the wife and kids.”
I hang up. Chief Cross will be livid for a little while, but he’ll get over it. The envelopes of cash, they’re mostly for show—though he never refuses them. At this point, we have so much blackmail on that man, he practically has to dance whenever we tell him to.
There are limits, of course. If I had gunned McLaren down on a busy street, that might’ve caused some problems. Bystanders and all that. But this, where it could plausibly be ruled an accident?
This I can get away with.
“Sir?” Franklin asks, sounding worried as sirens blare nearby.
“Take me around the block and call Shane. I have another visit to make before we’re finished here.”
Franklin grunts, puts the car in drive, turns around, and heads in the opposite direction.
I look back, smiling at the thick, black gusts of smoke spiraling into the air.
Chapter 44
Finn
I stretch my legs out, waiting.
Her room is nice. Bigger than I expected. Tastefully decorated. Not many personal touches—no pictures, no notes, nothing like that—but I still get a sense for her.
She likes order. She likes control. Her makeup is neatly put away and organized by type and color. Her bed is crisply made, though that could be the maids. Everything about her space screams of a woman that appreciates comfort and wealth, but needs them to be tamed to her will.
The door opens and Robin steps inside.
She doesn’t notice me. That’s the thing with familiarity. I’m practically invisible because she’s so used to her room being one way, she can’t imagine me in this place. Her brain refuses to process me, skips right over my presence, fills me in with the usual gap in the chair beside her bed.
I watch her snap on a light, humming to herself, skin flushed and sweaty from her tennis lesson. She disappears into her bathroom, the door shutting, the shower turning on. I make myself comfortable.
Eventually, she comes out in shorts and an old t-shirt, humming once again, looking happy as can be. She turns toward her nightstand, and finally, that’s when she spots me.
She goes still, her mouth opening, jaw working, trying to find words as she holds her hands up in the air, her fingers working as if she’s trying to type something on her phone.
“Hello, Robin.”
“Finn, what the fuck—” But her words are cut off as Shane steps out from the closet, walks up behind her, and shoves a rag over her face.
She struggles, fighting him, but Shane’s strong. He might be inexperienced, but the kid’s got guts, I’ll give him that.
Her screams are muffled as Shane forces her down to her knees.
“Don’t make this hard,” I say, standing. I pull the gun from its holster at my side and approach. Her eyes go wide. “Let me ask you something. Did you hear that big boom earlier?”
She nods, looking frantic.
I lean forward, smiling, delighted. “That was the sound of your father’s car exploding. With him in it, of course.”
She shakes her head, not believing me. I stand back, studying the girl I nearly married. Not to my taste. Not at all.
“Shane, let her go. Robin, if you scream, I’ll skip this conversation and go right to killing you.”
Shane steps back, bringing the rag with him.
Robin struggles to her feet, breathing hard, staring at me with sheer terror. I hold the gun, aimed at her face. My finger on the trigger.
“I don’t believe you,” she whispers hoarsely.
“That’s okay. You will soon.” I step closer. “Back on your knees.”
“Finn,” she says, voice squeaking. “Please—”
“Get. On. Your. Knees.”
Slowly, she sinks down, trembling. “You don’t have to do this. We can come to an agreement. I can help you. Please, if you just listen—”
“Open your mouth.”
She reels back. “Excuse me?”
I reach forward lightning fast and grab her jaw, squeezing it hard, forcing her lips apart. “Open. Now.”
When she obeys, I shove the gun barrel hard between her lips. It scrapes, chipping one tooth. She groans in pain, but I grab the back of her head, keeping her in place.
“That’s better,” I murmur. “Now, I have your attention. Your father is dead. The chief of police is busy spinning a story about engine failure. My involvement will never become public. Do you understand? Nod yes.”
She nods, shaking under my grip.
“Good. Now. My father’s little law failed by a single vote. Do you know the senator that turned against it?”
She nods again.
“You’re going to call him and beg him to change his mind. You’re going to tell him that it was your father’s dying wish. You’re going to sound emotional and convincing. If you don’t, I’ll kill you.”