Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
I shivered. We were having such a casual conversation about extortion and murder.
“Do we disgust you?” The question wasn’t asked in anger. Roan sounded curious.
After a pause, I shook my head. “No, you don’t.”
“So, that’s where we are. Foundry wants the town, but all the land they’ve bought doesn’t make it happen. It’s still subject to city code for as long as it’s a part of Bedlam.”
“So he sent his sons to handle part two,” I finished. “Forming their own town, so they can do whatever the hell they want with it. I know. I figured it out when I was with Jeremy today. But what’s the secret? What are they after?”
Roan smiled. “A hundred years, I’m not going to be the one who gives it up, even to a cute little spy like you.”
“I would never—”
He kissed me, swallowing my heated protest. I moaned as he nibbled my bottom lip, stealing entrance and teasing my tongue to play with his.
“Again, we’re having the wrong conversation. Obviously, they already know the only information worth hiding. It’s too late for that. There’s only stopping them now.”
“Which you’ll do,” I whispered, “by any means necessary.”
“Yes.”
“But why? Is all of this worth it?”
“You tell me, Rainey. Home,” he said. “The only place you know. Where you feel safe. Where you’ve made your memories and learned your history. Where your friends live with their parents, and your parents, and your parents’ friends. The one that has the donut shop you love, next to the smoothie place you hate. Where you kissed your first boyfriend on the walk home from school. Is fighting for a place like that worth it?”
I didn’t speak for a long time, and when I did, the calm had taken me.
“My grandmother was murdered.”
Roan’s brows snapped together. The only reaction he allowed himself. He didn’t speak, waiting for me to go on.
“She had a heart problem and collapsed in the field one day. The doctor said it was natural causes, but I knew it wasn’t true. For weeks—months—before her death, she was harassed by a company called AgriProspects. They were on her to sell, offering more and more money, but she refused. De Souza Farm had been in the family for generations. She wouldn’t give it up for millions.
“When she suddenly died without a will, I knew— I knew they were behind it,” I gritted. “Gran wanted to leave the farm to me and Ivy. She said as much to them a thousand times, so why wouldn’t she have made a will?
“I pushed for the sheriff to investigate. He couldn’t see past the old lady with a heart problem passing out in the sun. Open and shut. I harassed him every day for weeks to do a full autopsy, till he finally told his officers to throw me out if I walked into the station again. Desperate, I drained my first-year tuition money to pay for an independent autopsy.”
“What did it say?” he asked when I didn’t go on.
“Murder. My grandmother was poisoned with digitalis. It caused a fatal heart attack.” I dropped my head, breathing hard. “With no will and the farm in debt, ownership reverted to the bank, and they sold to AgriProspects.”
“Fucking bastards.”
Perfect sentiment but I couldn’t stop to acknowledge it. I started my story, I had to keep going.
“I forced into the station with the autopsy report, throwing my proof in his face, and ordering him to arrest Andrew Clein. The man who flew in and set up in town with the express instructions to get our farm.
“Sheriff Jack took the report and said he’d investigate—re-open the case.”
“But he didn’t.”
“No.” My voice shook, but not with grief. “He destroyed it. Buried it. I don’t know. All I know is when I came back asking if he’d made an arrest, he pretended he didn’t have a clue what I was talking about. I tried to call the medical examiner, and the phone rang and rang. No one has seen her since. He covered it up, Roan. My gran was murdered... and the sheriff covered it up.”
“I see why you hate him. Actually, hate’s too small a word, isn’t it?”
“The word doesn’t exist yet,” I spat. “I was furious. Raging. I took it out on everything and everyone, and then one day, I snapped. I burst into AgriProspects’ headquarters, found Andrew Clein, and beat him with his own phone. It took five people to pull me off him. After, I was sent away to a hospital. Doc Nash looked after me. He prescribed me pills when I got home that put me in a permanent fog.
“I can’t remember exactly what happened during that time except for one clear memory.” My tear dripped down my nose, painting my lips. “The night Ivy left.”
“What happened?”
“Who knows what set it off. Something small that spiraled out of control too quickly. She said we’d done everything we could do, and now we had to forgive and move on. It was what Gran would want. She’d hate seeing me as I was, broken and consumed with revenge.