Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
He imbues a sob in the palm of his hand. “I could’ve helped.”
Pains stretch across my chest as I murmur, “Uncle—”
“I never should’ve left, Luxxie. That doesn’t excuse me going off just now.”
I blink a few times before murmuring, “I see that this has haunted you for a long time, Uncle Red. I don’t hold your outrage against you.” And I have a feeling my next question for Burt will just break your heart . . . all over again.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” His dark eyes zip from me and back to Burt. In a firm tone, he adds, “Now this proof, Burt, please.”
“That can be arranged, sir.”
I assist Burt to the car sometime later. A second after the door is closed, my mouth opens. The concerns I’ve had come out in a keyed-up voice. “Burt, don’t play with me. We’ve had the discussion about being real with each other. I found Momma. The door wasn’t locked. You have some explaining to do,”
One hand pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’d hoped you’d not recall that bit of information, Luxury.”
“But Uncle Red couldn’t get inside the house when he returned. While I have been terrorized with fi-finding my momma.”
“You . . . came by the day after, sweetheart. That was always Detective Caruso’s reasoning to hold Dr. Everhart’s statement against him. The whole attempt at return,” he says derisively.
"But—”
“The authorities had a subpoena, combed through every home Dr. Everhart owns, every office. Sweetheart,” he takes my hand, “the poor bloke blames himself. Had we continued our conversation . . . I dare say his mental state would be further diminished. Yes, Eugene returned. Now, take my word, Luxury, you know all that you should.”
“No, Burt. I’m not Uncle Red. Don’t you dare spare my feelings! I fought through hell. You know that. N-now, talk.”
As he silently regards me with a mirror of sorrow and regret, eerie intuition whispers from my mouth. “If Eugene Orson came back—he-he had a key?”
“He did. Per Dr. Everhart’s statement, Eugene must have entered while the door was unlocked and was able to retrieve your mum’s key for . . . when he returned.”
“Yes, you keep stopping at the part where he returned. Tell me everything, Burt!”
Burt sighs deeply, wilting before me. “A more extensive search of the Doorbell application indicated that Eugene left sometime before the sun came up the next day. Victor never spoke with me after advising that Eugene was gone. However, Paul and Monica believe he may have held her against her will. Allowed Dr. Everhart to return while she was incapacitated. Your parents did not have the Doorbell app. The recordings connected to the robbery, which occurred at the jeweler located on the corner, showed that Eugene was in disarray upon his final departure.”
Disarray. And he left before the sun came up. Tears creep down my cheeks. “Now I have more questions. Did Vic actually vindicate Momma? Or was the asshole already dead? Did Eugene escape Victor’s wrath, and you didn’t have the heart to tell Uncle Red—just like how her murderer returned.”
Burt glances out the window then turns back to me. “Victor sent confirmation that he expired Eugene Orson the same night he left. He didn’t share anything else.”
I feel like shit for forcing Burt to tell me everything, and his last revelation makes me go all wobbly. The more than thorough, calculating Victor murdered my mother’s tormentor just in case.
Just.
In.
Case.
He never got the chance.
The truth settles in. The second my man left New York, he was prepared to die. And it’s all because of me.
24
Victor
Luxury must’ve gone fucking mad, past insane, after the extensive time I’ve been off the grid.
That tosser, Ahmad, deployed explosives extending a minuscule radius. At the last moment, I launched myself behind some steel-like statue. As he lay moaning, I squeezed off two hollow-tip bullets between his eyes and fled to the alarming sound of an army of footfalls.
Ahmad’s meddling and death sent the sheikh into hiding. The only positive turn of events is that the wanka secured passage for himself and his beloved daughter.
Unearthing their hideaway while forgoing the assistance of my intelligence team has proven an incomparable challenge. I returned to Al Rafi’s casino and observed the rotation of various security, planting trackers on his supercars and armored SUVs. I’ve tracked numerous vehicles to seek out where his defense has traveled while not at the casino. Interacting with guests at the hotel, I’ve gleaned from the common gossips that Al Rafi faults the Sheikh of Tavar for sending a lone assassin in to end him.
For the past week, I’ve stayed in the home of a man who was ruffing up a woman one night. Since I introduced myself to him, he’s been preoccupied with death, shoved into his bedroom closet. Sort of reminds me of my first X-Member mission.