Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Jack hefted his belt up his gut, saying something to his subordinates.
My fingers scraped the bark, digging splinters in my nail bed. I had to come to assure myself everything was being done for Bella, however, I underestimated the impact of seeing him again, in the flesh.
When my mind collapsed under the weight of grief and I rode out to Andrew Clein’s office, I made a stop along the way. At Jack Sharpe’s home, where I knew he went every day for his lunch break—the five-minute drive from the station allowing him to enjoy his pastrami and Coke on the couch.
I can’t say exactly what I planned to do to the armed elected officer of the law. I simply knew I wasn’t walking out of that house until it was done.
I got there and banged on the door. No one answered my pounding, so I got in the car and made for Clein.
Afterward, it was a thirty-day stay in a facility and Doc Nash’s drug cocktail for me. Sheriff Jack didn’t get a taste of the retribution I owed him—that didn’t mean he escaped it.
There was proof of what he’d done in the second autopsy I couldn’t yet afford, and the missing medical examiner I was still searching for. Once I had the latter testifying she gave me the same results as the former, I’d strip Jack Sharpe of everything that mattered to him. His shiny badge, his respected position, his little bungalow paid for by the town, and whatever relationship he had with his son. Everyone would see him for the rotted filth he was and then he’d spend the rest of his days in a cage with the men he locked away.
With him gone, they’d open a real investigation into Gran’s death. What happened to her will? Did Andrew Clein work alone, or did his bosses order him to acquire the farm by any lethal means necessary? Why did they choose our lives to destroy?
The sheriff made for my barn, Davidson on his heels. My phone buzzed, but I couldn’t relax enough to take it out until the man was out of my sight.
Inhaling a shuddering breath, I fished out my cell and it slipped through my fingers. I bent to get it and froze.
Crushed cigarette butts peppered the bed of moss, dotting the earth like raisins in a salad. My mind raced ahead of me, stealing my breath and me unable to move for the scenes tumbling across my vision.
This spot, next to this tree, was a perfect unobstructed view of the farmhouse and barn. Someone could stand here watching me go in and out, and concealed in wood, I’d have no idea they were there. Someone did stand here—long enough to burn multiple cigarettes down to nothing, and what about an abandoned farm would interest them other than the young woman who couldn’t stay away?
The Letter Man. This is how he knew when to leave his filth. He watched me come and go.
A shiver ran up my spine, making me physically convulse. Gagging, I clapped a hand over my mouth, forcing down the sounds. Forcing air into my lungs. The whole time he was here. Not Cavendish who gave no sign that he smoked during the days that I watched him. But my new tormentor—the beast who demanded I kill an innocent person and took Bella as the price.
He was here.
Calm down, Rainey. Think! I shoved myself up. I can use this. I finally know something about him he doesn’t want me to—
A hand clamped my mouth, smothering my scream as I was snapped to a hard chest.
“Let me make something clear to you,” hissed the deep, husky voice. “You don’t walk away from me. You don’t go anywhere without my permission.”
Seizing his fingers, I peeled them off one by one. “I thought the rule was I don’t go where you can’t find me. Didn’t look like you had that problem.”
“Rules change, baby.”
CAIRO
I dropped Rain in the dirt, tearing her panties off with the most satisfying sound. Through the trees, cops pleased to arrest us for disturbing their crime scene flitted about in their gloves and suits, looking important. I didn’t care an iota more about their presence than I did the damp earth ruining my new jeans or the cut that split my cheek as my fiery Rain swiped at me.
She’d give me what I wanted. She always would. But I’d fight for it like I’d done for nothing else in my life.
The next blind swipe I caught. Slamming her hand on the ground, I curled between her fingers—lacing them through the moss and soil—our mark a part of the earth.
Rain freed her other hand and closed on mine covering her mouth, keeping me in place for what we knew was coming.
I scratched my cock ripping my zipper down. It thrummed a dizzying gush of blood, draining reason and control, rock hard at the mere sight of her hair splayed over the roots. Thong in tatters beside me. Bare ass high and unwilling to deny me.