Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Nolan lifts his crutch and pushes the end into the guy’s throat, forcing him back in the chair. “I know your ex.”
His persona changes in an instant, a sneer crawling across his face. “She’s not my ex.”
“She has to be,” Nolan says, smiling. “Since she’s my girlfriend.”
“What?”
“You heard.”
“Fuck off. She’s mine. She wouldn’t dare.”
I smile, unable to help myself, and pull my phone from my pocket, bringing up the video of Nolan fucking Ella. I can’t watch it myself, can’t even listen, so I turn the volume down—it felt wrong even before I knew Nolan was mine—and hold it in front of Ella’s ex, just to torture the fucker, just to prove beyond all doubt in his stupid fucking mind that Ella is, in fact, not his. “You’ve got the moves, son,” I say, amused when Nolan’s eyes widen at me. A mild shake of his head. I pass him the gun. “Let’s not drag this out.”
He accepts, wedges it in the slime ball’s kneecap, and blows it out. Poor thing screams to high heaven, looking like he’s having a fit in the chair as his restrained body tries to cope with the pain. “Come near her again, I’ll kill you,” Nolan seethes.
“Not sure he’ll be able to walk after this, son.”
Nolan blows out his other knee and hops back, putting his weight on his crutch. Satisfied. Ella’s ex dribbles and cries, yelps and screams. So I gag him again before someone comes to investigate the noise—namely the FBI agent outside.
I bend, looking at him. He’s going to pass out, his head hanging, so I grab a fistful of his hair and pull his head up. “Bet you’re full of regrets now, aren’t you?” Fucking bully.
He can’t answer.
I step back. “Finish him.”
“What?” Nolan looks at me, shocked.
“Did he lay a finger on your woman?”
“Yes.”
“Then kill him,” I order, seeing a steeliness wash over Nolan’s face. Understanding. I slap his shoulder and walk away, leaving him to finish the job, breaking out into the sunshine.
Dad.
Fuck. Me.
I wave Leon over as I delete the video from my phone and try to delete it from my head. “Clean up when he’s done.”
“Yes, B-Boss.”
Going to the café, I grab a beer from the fridge, stalling when I see Ella sitting in the corner. I go over, take note of her eye, now not concealed with makeup. I lower to a seat. “He’s a bit busy at the moment.”
“Should I go?”
“No, stay.” I point to the counter. “Get a drink, he won’t be long.”
“Where is he?” she asks, looking around.
“He’s dealing with someone in the green container.”
“Dealing with someone? Who?”
I tilt my head, and she inhales. “Cody, was it?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell you the same as I told my son,” I say. “Once you’re in this world, you don’t leave it.”
She sits back, her eyes resolute. “I love him.”
I nod. “Give him fifteen.” Getting up, I slurp my beer as I head to the others. “What did I miss?”
“What did we miss?” James asks, interested.
“A little father and son bonding by the sounds of it,” Danny says. He’s obviously called Otto.
“Something like that.”
Danny’s phone rings, and he rejects the call. “So, Higham, le—” It rings again. He rejects it again. “Let’s get—” Ring, ring. “For the love of fucking God. Hello, darling,” he says, sarcastic as fuck, a strained, gritted-teeth smile on his face as he gets up and starts to wander. His face falls. “What?” Then his eyes dart, and I feel an awful chill slither through my veins. “Okay.” Danny hangs up, and we all look at each other, waiting. “Pearl’s missing,” he says quietly. But, my God, it’s like someone screaming directly into my ear.
“Missing?” I say, hardly able to breathe. “What do you mean, missing? She was at home. Fury took her home.”
“She’s packed and gone.”
My body won’t move, my brain is struggling to compute this news. Gone. Packed and gone.
Why?
I get up, sit back down. The Audi. The black Audi.
Standing on unstable legs, I walk away, calling her cell. She doesn’t pick up.
“You need to see this,” Higham says, pulling my attention back to the table. He throws something down, and James picks it up, his face deadly. An envelope. He pulls something out, studying it.
I don’t know what, and I really don’t care right now. I walk up and down, trying to call Pearl. Nothing. No answer. Fuck. I dial Rose, lighting up, puffing anxiously. “Are all of her things gone?” I ask when she answers. “Everything?”
“No, not everything.”
“So you might be overreacting? Worrying over nothing?”
“Then where is she?”
I don’t know, but I’ll be fucking savage if she’s out in the city on her own.
“Brad,” Danny says, his attention on the table.
“Wait a minute,” I snap, going back to my call with Rose. “Can you go—”
“Brad,” James yells.
“I said, wait! Rose—” My cell is suddenly missing from my ear, and I swing around, fuming. “For fuck’s sa—” I slowly register everyone’s expressions.