Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
She pressed herself close, threading her arms around me and tucking her head into the crook of my neck. She didn’t care blood covered us or that I stunk to high heaven; she merely held me and didn’t need to say anything else.
Accepting what she gave me, finally trusting her when she said she loved me enough to overlook my flaws and accept me unconditionally—just as I’d accepted her with her scars and panic attacks and any other issues that might haunt her for the rest of her life—we turned together and headed outside to complete the grisly tally of death.
* * * * *
It took hours.
Between my hobbling and stiffness and the scattered locations of the Chinmoku’s resting places, dawn turned to morning long before we’d finished counting.
With each body we found, I ticked it off on a mental checklist, and my brain settled a little more.
Pim held my hand the entire journey, never complaining or suggesting someone else finished counting for me.
I didn’t know if it was because her throat was still too sore to talk or if she’d reverted to her favouritism of silence—but I was grateful.
We’d won but we’d lost a fair few of Mercers men. Four lives to be exact. Four lives that had died yet again for me.
Guilt sat heavy. Triumph over winning not an option.
Tallying the deaths took us all over Mercer’s estate, and by the time we counted the final bodies and trailed down the spiral staircase from Mercer’s bedroom, the foyer had already been removed of carcasses and stank of fresh bleach.
Maids and security guards alike donned rubber gloves, mopping, scrubbing, removing any evidence of what had happened.
The crime scene was erased.
Once again, I wished I was normal and could breathe a sigh of relief and be done with it. But my idiotic brain couldn’t let me rest.
Even though my eyes barely functioned, my eyelids drooped heavily, and I now leaned on Pim instead of walked beside her, I kept patrolling the house until I found Mercer speaking to Franco in hushed French in the kitchen.
They both looked up as Pim and I interrupted, their faces just as ashen and drawn.
At least one good thing about tonight had come true. Daishin had lied when he hinted he’d brought more than law stated to fight me. He’d stuck to the twenty men permitted.
And we’d found twenty-one with him included.
All of them dealt with and no longer a threat to Pim or my family.
Some had fatal stab wounds. Others had bullet holes. But all of them were deceased.
Thank God.
Mercer raised an eyebrow, knowing full well I wasn’t here for a social call. “Need something?”
“Yes. A truck.”
“A truck?”
I nodded. “Something large with lockable doors and opaque panels. And I need to buy it off you because I won’t be returning it.”
“Quoi?” He shook his head at his slip, morphing effortlessly back into English. “Why?”
“Because I’m going to load up the Chinmoku and drive them to Calais.”
“What?” Pim piped up, the first word she’d said in hours. “You can’t be serious. It’s almost lunchtime. What the hell are you going to do with twenty-one bodies at the port?”
I smiled, revealing a pastime I was well versed in. “I’m going to make them disappear.”
Mercer understood straight away. He prattled something off to Franco. I caught the words van, keys, and hurry.
Turning back to me, he added, “I have my own way of disposing of them. You don’t need to—”
“Yes, I do.” I allowed my temper to show. “This is my mess. It’s mine to clean up. You stole any chance I had at physically cleaning. The least you can do is let me take them out to sea and drop them into the deepest part of the ocean I can.”
Tess walked into the kitchen, her eyes widening as she towel-dried freshly washed hair. In grey track pants and black hoodie, she looked as if she’d just come back from the gym and not a shower to wash away an evening of murder. “Are you sure? All of them? Will your boat hold the weight?”
“The Phantom can carry hundreds, if need be. So yes. I’m sure.”
“In that case.” Mercer clapped his hands as Franco reappeared and handed him a key. “I guess we’ll help you load your cargo.”
* * * * *
I’d never driven a delivery van before.
Not that I would be driving today with my arm and leg buggered as they were.
Almost three p.m. and each Chinmoku was tucked up tight in plastic bags to prevent leakage and strapped into a massive sandwich of bodies.
The only thing hiding them from the public eye was a thin piece of metal siding and an old logo of a food delivery service.
Mercer returned after taking a phone call as we placed the last corpse inside.
He tucked his phone away then glanced at the van and back to me. “That was the chief of police. I’ve cleared a path for you. You shouldn’t encounter any road blocks or drunk driving barricades at this time of day. However, if you do, no one will ask questions. My reach doesn’t include border security or port officials, so you’re on your own there.” His eyes narrowed, evidence of his migraine paling his skin. “Please tell me you’re not going to drive onto the pier and unload bodies in plain sight—night or day?”