Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“He’ll never go to jail,” I said. “He’s too rich. Has access to all the best lawyers. And at the end of it, he could end up with custody of those kids. That’s not fucking happening.”
“Got it,” Brooks said, nodding. “Just floating the option,” he added, likely already knowing it was a long shot.
“So what’s your plan then?” Fallon asked. “If you don’t think he went home. It’s not like you can handle this shit in a hotel room somewhere.”
“I got Lana’s car and his number. Figure I will send a text, then park somewhere that should be low on cameras—“
“Not so fucking easy these days,” Fallon said, sighing. “Everyone’s got a doorbell cam now.”
“I’ll be careful,” I assured him.
“I know you want to get up close and personal with this fuck, but I feel like I need to remind you that you have skills that would keep you far away from him, that would be a lot fucking safer overall.”
He wasn’t wrong.
The smartest bet for me would be sharpshooting.
And if it was the only choice, to end this, I would do it. But I wanted to get in that bastard’s face if possible, to let him know what I thought of fuckers who put their hands on women and children. To make it clear how fucking undeserving he was to be in their lives at all.
“I’ll be smart about it,” I told him, pulling my phone out of my pocket, and handing it to Brooks.
“You come here when you’re done,” Fallon demanded. “Shower, change, clothes washed, then you go home.”
“I know the drill,” I agreed, pulling off my cut.
“Take this,” Fallon said, handing me a gun. “And that,” he added, waving toward a duffel bag on the pool table. I didn’t have to ask to know what was inside. A sniper rifle.
“Thanks,” I said, taking the bag, then moving back outside.
To Lana’s car.
I paused for a moment, looking in the rearview at the carseats situated there. A silent reminder of why I was doing this, but also why I had to do what I promised Fallon I would.
Be smart.
Be careful.
Get home safe.
I drove around town a bit, looking for the car Lana had described to me at all the closest hotels. But finding nothing.
On a sigh, I drove out to one of the parks in the area. It didn’t have any shit for kids, so it wasn’t as popular as others, and was conveniently on a wooded road with no houses directly around. And those that were on the street were set far enough back from the road that no personal security cameras could catch people or even clear car images.
I checked inside the duffel, pulling out a burner someone must have tossed in, turning it on, and gritting my teeth as I plugged in his number.
My texts wouldn’t trace anywhere. Especially not back to Lana. But when the cops looked into Simon’s death—and they would, pretty thoroughly, given his stature in the world—his would be looked over. I had to word the text in a way that would make Simon believe it was Lana, but wouldn’t trace back to her in any way.
If I give you what you want, will this all be over?
There.
Vague, but suggestive.
Hell, the cops might even look into it and see it as some sort of shady business dealing.
Yes. Where are you?
I sent him the address of the park, turned off the phone, and put it in the passenger seat to deal with later.
With that, I got out, taking the duffel, just in case, and walking into the woods around the perimeter of the park, wanting to get a good spot where I could see him, but he wouldn’t see me.
Time seemed to tick slowly, and the silence and anticipation suddenly cleared my head.
And I realized there was going to need to be another step to this.
One that Lana was going to fucking hate.
But it was the only way to move suspicion off of her during the investigation.
And it was all going to hinge on how well she could lie.
“Fuck,” I hissed, pissed off that even this bastard’s death wasn’t going to be the end of things. But, the plan would come with some… benefits to if not Lana, then the kids.
That was what my mind was still on when I heard a car door slam, then watched as a figure climbed out of his car, and looked into Lana’s car, then out at the park.
I was glad for the decision to hide in the woods as I watched him walk right toward me, but completely oblivious.
I wasn’t looking through the scope, hadn’t gotten myself into position to use it, so I didn’t see it right away.
Not until he turned to look around, and the light flashed off of the barrel.
The motherfucker brought a gun.