Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“HPD is useless,” Park announces while resting his ass on the edge of his nearby desk. “Swanson, the so-called lead detective on the original incident case, can’t even remember to delete his browser history most of the time, which is why his wife probably doesn’t feel guilty for fucking their daughter’s tutor twice a week.”
Gently delivering a stroke to Bryn’s shoulder is attached to me growling, “You’re telling me they have nothing.”
“I’m telling you they have nothing about that, nothing about the occurrence at the school, and are even less likely to have something about this.”
“Then tell me what you have before I buy this entire fucking city, kick everyone out, and wall the shit off like an underdeveloped country being taken over by a warlord dictator.”
“Very Wrath of Khan of you,” the woman beside me snickers. “I approve.”
“I don’t,” J.T. swiftly disagrees from where he’s leaning against the wall beside Hill. “And I’m getting less Khan, more Romulan.”
“Whatever you wanna fucking call it,” Finnigan, the P.I. Park prefers to work with, joins the conversation, “sounds like a bad idea.”
“An unnecessary idea,” Park proclaims prior to folding his arms across his t-shirt covered chest. “Particularly because I have a better one. One you’re going to hate, but that’s more cost efficient than declaring war on the government.”
“Explain.”
Park motions for Finnigan to begin again, “From what we managed to gather at the scene, everything leads to a dead end. The SUV that was used to orchestrate the crash was stolen this morning, it was then found a short distance down the road, in an empty parking lot, torched, leaving no viable DNA evidence left behind, and there was no traffic camera footage due to the street they were forced onto by construction.”
“You sound like HPD,” I callously sneer prompting Bryn to deliver a chastising swat to my thigh.
“However,” Finnigan lifts his palms up in a pleading nature, “when we swept the area of the crash, we found a small GPS tracker that must’ve been knocked off during the attack.”
“Who does it lead to?!”
“No one,” Park immediately replies, inspiring my glaring to return. “It came from a black-market shipment and while we’re tracing the vicinity of where it was reporting too, that’s unlikely to reveal any viable information as they were probably using a public space to further be untraceable.”
“So…we’re dealing with a supervillain?” Bryn playfully pokes, revealing that in spite of the accident, in spite of having to call 911 with bloody fingers, and possibly watch someone we love die in front of her face, she’s not scared.
She’s not going backwards.
She’s not going to retreat and remove herself from this place she’s worked so hard to reach.
That we’ve worked so hard to reach.
I love that.
And I will love ending whoever has been trying to destroy what it is we have.
“We’re dealing with someone who has very close access to you, Bryn,” Park cautiously informs.
“Me?!” She squawks loudly. “What the fuck makes you think it’s me?!”
“This particular attack,” he retorts.
“When the first incident occurred, I began sifting through the usual suspects,” Finnigan explains between smacks of his gum. “I looked at those that most likely might be holding a grudge for what you’ve done to them and their business-”
“You did destroy the Marks family when you first inherited the company,” my best friend recalls on a large cringe.
“They shouldn’t have been publicly lying about the age of their product or the tainted barrels making people sick.”
“Weeding out those with the amount of means it would take to hire and orchestrate a string of attacks wasn’t difficult nor did it produce any viable leads. Most have rebound in their financial endeavors and have no interest in crossing the man who nearly destroyed their lives once.”
The love of my life theatrically gasps and tosses a hand over her chest. “Are you the supervillain?”
There’s barely time to twitch a glare before Finnigan is proceeding, “I then focused my attention on Penny, the young woman you literally had exiled from the country.”
“For trying to murder the woman that would become her stepmother,” Bryn bitterly bites.
“Tell me Penny is not involved again,” I practically whisper out. “I spared her life once. I will not do it twice.”
“Penny, her husband, and their newborn – who they just brought home yesterday – all came up clean.” Finnigan doesn’t bother hiding his grin. “They’ve sent photos of your nephew-”
“Ugh, I can’t believe we’re related.”
“-and digital thank you cards for the gifts-”
“What gifts?!” croaks the feisty female beside me.
“-and look forward to Clark and Lauren visiting next year.”
“You got them gifts?!”
“I know you didn’t believe her to be a possibility; however, I had to do my due diligence.” Finnigan offers up a small hand toss. “It’s my job.”
“Correct.”
And my job is caring for our family, which now includes Penny.
Do I know if our children will ever meet hers?