Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Gathering myself together to finish, I clung to Garrett as he held me closer to him.
“Juanita Gilfry—that was my boss’s name. She owned the Laundromat. She bought me a pregnancy test, and it was positive. She took me in to live in her two-bedroom apartment with her six kids, mother, and elderly aunt. I slept on the sofa. She helped me get Medicaid. Took me to doctor’s appointments.”
I smiled through my tears as I thought of the day I’d heard my baby’s heartbeat for the first time. I loved her so much in that moment. I wanted to give her everything I never had.
“I lived there until Gypsi turned one. I saved enough to get a small studio apartment in the same complex. We stayed there until I swindled the men in poker. You know the rest.”
Garrett pressed a kiss to my head, and I wrapped my arms around him. There was a lighter feeling in my chest. Sharing my worst nightmares with someone else, someone I could trust and who loved me, it helped.
“Come to bed. Let me hold you,” Garrett said in a husky whisper.
I went willingly. Letting him lead me, pick me up, and tuck me in against his chest.
When I closed my eyes that night, I didn’t fear the nightmares that slipped in sometimes. I knew I had a protector. Someone who would never let the evil touch me again.
Thirty-Nine
Garrett
Kenneth Houston took one last pull from his cigar before dropping it onto the overgrown yard at the run-down trailer we’d pulled up to. Gage stood with his usual amused smirk on his face as he waited for me to explain why I’d brought them to a trailer park in West Virginia.
“I’m looking for two people. Billy and Carla Day. Neither dies until I have what I want from them. Then, I want their deaths to be brutal, and I want to do it myself. I need their blood, agony, and death done by my hands.” That was the only information I’d given them when I called both men and told them to meet me at the plane before five this morning.
Kenneth studied the trailer, then turned back to me. “This must be personal. I can’t remember the last time you and I handled this kind of thing.”
I nodded once, then headed toward the door.
“Should Gage stay with the vehicle?” Kenneth asked.
“No. You’re here because you’re one of my closest friends. Gage is here because he’s a psychopath. He’s needed inside.”
Gage chuckled, as if my description wasn’t accurate.
I didn’t bother knocking, but stepped back, and with trained precision, I kicked the cheap-ass door in. A loud female shriek, followed by a man’s cursing, was instant. I stepped inside the doorway, taking in the scene. It was fucking disgusting. Empty bottles of cheap liquor, needles, and garbage littered the kitchen and living room area.
I immediately recognized the tall, skinny man with greasy hair and circles under his eyes, wearing a pair of dingy underwear. He was the man in the photos Levi had given me. Billy Day. He stood there, gaping at me before he reached for whatever weapon he had tucked under the cushions of his faded brown sofa.
“That would be a real bad idea,” Gage drawled, walking in with his gun already drawn and pointed at the man. “My finger’s itching to pretty up this place with some bright red blood.”
The man froze, his shifty gaze going from me to Gage.
“We didn’t take nothing from Johnny. He’s lying. We bought our lot nice and square and wasn’t from the likes of him. He’s lying, saying we owe him shit. We don’t,” the woman shrieked.
I turned to look at her for the first time. She was younger than Carla. Too young for Billy, but she did look legal.
Gage raised his eyebrows as he looked at me. He was clearly amused.
“You moved on from Carla, I see,” I said, turning my gaze back to Billy.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “What you know about Carla?” he asked.
“Who the fuck is Carla?!” the other woman shouted.
His beady eyes didn’t leave the gun that was trained on him. “My dead wife,” he said to her.
Dead? That hadn’t come up in the background report.
“When did she die?” I asked him.
The nervous tic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “A week ago. Meth house she was living in blew up.”
“We’ve been together fourteen months, Billy! You never said nothing ’bout no wife.”
He scowled. “There’s a man pointing a gun at me, Bridge. We can talk ’bout that shit later.”
I turned back to Bridge. “I don’t know. I’m with Bridge here. I’d like to know about Carla myself.”
Bridge’s expression softened, and she gave me a flirtatious smile.
Gage coughed to cover up his laughter.
I turned back to Billy, looking at the son of a bitch. Rage pounded in my head. The sound of Fawn’s voice, her cries, the way she had trembled in my arms, recalling all he’d done to her. I wasn’t sure hell would be enough for him. The suffering I wanted to inflict on this man was worse than anything the fucking Devil could deliver.