Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“What did you think?” I asked the man in front of me. “Did you think that I would just forget that you touched my kid? One who’d done nothing wrong, who was just the child of the man you perceived as a threat to your fucking livelihood?” I stepped forward. “I saw the marks on his chest when I took him to the hospital. Bruises on his ribs from where you kicked him before my brother could stop you.”
The man, now ex-agent Josh Fry, sneered at me.
“When the police come, you’re going to go to jail for what you’re doing.”
He knew just as well as I that this wasn’t protocol. The law was looking for him, undoubtedly.
“Yeah,” I agreed. He was likely right. Would that change what I was about to do? Fuck no. “My brother’s been with you for months now. Did you know that?”
“Not until tonight, no,” Fry said. “But I knew he wasn’t right when he wouldn’t fuck the merchandise, which should’ve been my first clue that something wasn’t right.” He grinned. “I used to show him pictures of me fucking the women. Some as young as fourteen.”
I don’t know what came over me.
One second I was staring at the man in front of me who was giving every detail of his last eight years, how he sold hundreds of women to men that purchased them to be used as slaves, and the next I just snapped.
The cleaver that I was sure was for decoration rather than actual use was mounted on the wall over the kitchen sink.
The moment I grabbed it, my body became numb.
Taking the cleaver over to the man—no, filthy scum because the man didn’t deserve the title of a man—I reared back, cleaver in hand, and brought it down over the man’s tied hands.
It imbedded in his flesh, went all the way to the metal table, and stopped.
Dropping the clever on the table while Fry screamed, I looked at him dispassionately as the door to the room opened.
“Let’s see how well you can touch people who don’t want your touch with no fuckin’ hands.”
With that parting comment, I rushed out of the room, past my brother, and straight to the back door.
I made it all the way to the side of the boat before I lost my lunch.
Epilogue
If a woman asks if she’s fat, there are multiple things you can do in this situation. However, ‘no’ isn’t adequate enough. You must also act surprised that she would even ask that question. As well, you should probably jump back as if she’d just offered you a grievous blow.
-Words of wisdom
Wolf
1 year later
I sat down on the metal bleachers and watched as Nathan came back up to bat.
Marky Mark leaned at my side, content to watch his little friend play.
Nathan looked over at me, grinned widely at seeing me sitting in my normal spot, and turned his head back to the game.
“Elbow up, boy!” I yelled. “Eye on the ball.”
Nathan nodded his head and lifted his elbow.
I leaned forward and rested my hands around Raven’s shoulders, massaging them as I watched my boy bat.
“He’s going to strike out,” I muttered. “He can’t keep his eyes off of you.”
She giggled.
“I’m not normally dressed in a dress,” she said. “I can understand why he keeps looking at me like I’m not me.”
I chuckled and placed my head on top of hers.
“Strike!” the umpire called loudly.
“Get your head in the game, boy,” I told my son, who’d just today turned seven years old. “Watch what you’re doing.”
Nathan grinned unabashedly and squared his hips to the plate.
The next pitch, thankfully from a pitching machine this year instead of a coach, tossed the ball toward him.
It was the perfect pitch, right in Nathan’s sweet spot.
He waited, twitched, and then swung.
The ball and bat connected, and for the second time this season, he hit a homerun.
Only this time it was an in-field home run rather than an out-of-the-park one.
“Run!” I bellowed getting up on my feet and jumping right along with the rest of them.
Marky Mark was on his hind feet, front paws planted on the chain link fence beside me, in the action, too.
“You really shouldn’t have come here in that dress,” Annie said. “You’re going to get it dirty as hell.”
Raven shrugged. “Who cares? I’m never going to wear it again after today.”
I grinned.
“No, you most certainly will not,” I agreed, running my fingers down the delicate slip of a wedding dress. “You, Mrs. Wolfgang Amsel, will be hanging this up and never touching it for the rest of your life. You won’t ever be needing it again.”
Raven tossed me a grin over her shoulder. “I kind of like the sound of that.”
“Of what?” Lenore asked as she sat down, Griffin sliding onto the seat beside her. “What’s with that look on your face?”