Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“Half-cocked? What else do you need?” He throws his hands into the air before clasping them on top of his head like he’s afraid it will explode otherwise. I know the feeling. He’s taken me to that place many times.
“Actual proof, for one. Or would you rather go cruising through Nevada without any real idea where we’re heading or who we’ll find once we get there? You don’t honestly think they’re unarmed, do you?”
He rolls his eyes, but his silence tells me more. He knows I’m right. “Going out there now would be like trying to go hunting with a water gun. We’d be way outmatched. It would be hopeless.”
“So what? We wait?”
“We’ve waited all this time,” I remind him, taking pains to keep myself calm in the face of his growing impatience. “So we wait a little while longer.”
His growl is enough to make my hair stand on end. “You can afford to wait. I can’t.”
“Why not?” I demand before pulling myself back. I can’t let him drag me into a fight. Not now. He’ll only end up going off. “Don’t you want to be sure we get this done the right way the first time around? We won’t get a second chance.”
“Fine.” He folds his arms, eyes narrowing into slits. “Since you think you’re calling the shots, what should we do now? What’s your big idea?”
Considering he just hit me with this new information, there’s no idea at the ready, and he knows it. He forgets how familiar I am with his sudden, irritating shifts. Like he wants to blindside me into throwing my hands up the way he does. Hoping I’ll give in and let him have his way.
Not this time. Not when we’re so close. We can’t afford to get greedy now.
“I want them to pay for what they did just as much as you do,” I remind him. If anything, the nightmare only strengthens my hatred and reminds me why this is so important. These people are responsible for destroying our lives and so many others. Killing our parents. Breaking up countless families when they twisted the minds of sons, daughters, sisters, and brothers.
I lower my brow the way he does, staring straight at the camera. “When we make our move, everything needs to be in place. Nothing can be left to chance. I want this over, once and for all, like you do.”
His breathing is heavy. Hard. The sound of a frustrated bull ready to charge, held back by something stronger. He doesn’t have to like it and refuses to hide the fact. No big surprise there. We don’t hide things from each other.
“What should we do next, then?”
I’ll overlook the resentment in his voice in favor of coming up with the next step. “I’ll do more research here. Police reports, missing kids. Hell, even unexplained deaths. Bodies turning up seemingly out of nowhere.”
“Right,” he grunts, nodding. “Anyone who decided they weren’t into the idea of signing over their entire lives to a bunch of maniacs.”
“Something like that. Recent Google Earth images might help locate any random structures in the middle of the desert. We need a location. Something definite.”
He nods again, slower this time. “What about her?” He can’t be bothered to speak her name.
Reflexively, my gaze darts up, fixing on the bedroom door. “What do you mean?”
“You aren’t planning on leaving her there alone, are you? While we do what needs to be done?” He snorts, lifting a shoulder. “Not that I mind much, either way.”
Don’t. Don’t let him do it.
“No, I can’t leave her here.”
“What’s the alternative?”
“What else? I have to get her on our side.”
His snort tells me all I need to know, not that I have any questions. “I don’t feel like spending the rest of my life waiting for that.”
“Nobody said you’d have to wait that long.”
“Nobody needs to,” he fires back, his voice flat. “She’s never going to understand. A spoiled princess like her?”
I grind my teeth, drawing a deep breath through my nose. It does nothing to cool the indignation burning bright in my gut. “You don’t know the first thing about her, so don’t pretend you do. I’ve already begun to explain what happened. How we ended up where we are.”
“How did she take it?”
“She was sympathetic, of course.”
“Sympathy is one thing. Being willing to do what has to be done is another. It wasn’t her parents who were killed. Her entire life wasn’t fucked up. She wasn’t separated from her siblings like I was.” His voice rises in volume with every word until he’s almost shouting.
The pain I hear helps soothe at least a fraction of my irritation with him. Out of all of us, he suffered the most. “I know. And she’ll understand. She always understands.”
“We’ll see.” No big surprise; he doesn’t have high hopes. His lack of faith in her leaves me teetering on the edge, ready to tumble headfirst into rage born of frustration.