Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
The man raises his chin, nostrils flared, and Caz sighs before taking a step back, opening his coat, and drawing out his gun. Killian moves away as Caz points the gun at the center of the man’s forehead.
“Very well.”
Those are the last words Caz says before pulling the trigger and sending a bullet flying through the man’s skull.
My heart drops and I back away again, but I can’t bring myself to make a single noise, afraid he’ll use it on me next. He just…killed that guy—murdered him in cold blood, and everyone is still standing around, watching this man bleed out like he was slapped or something. Oh, God. Am I in hell?
Caz swings the smoking barrel of the gun toward the quivering man, who immediately throws his hands in the air.
“It—it was Rami! Rami sent us!”
“Why?” Caz barks.
“I—I don’t know, I swear, I don’t! T-they paid me! I just took the rubies and did what they said!”
“Yousef, you dumb fuck,” Rowan grumbles.
Caz keeps his gun pointed at Yousef, then he takes a step closer, pressing the hot barrel to his forehead. It sizzles on his skin, and Yousef whimpers. “Anything for rubies, eh, Yousef?”
The man squeezes his eyes shut, his hands in the air, silently pleading.
“Do me a favor. Run to Ripple Hills—and when I say run, I do mean run. Run the whole fucking way and don’t stop until you’re at Rami’s door. And when he opens that door, you tell that filthy fucker that he’ll be dead before he gets the chance to say my name again.”
“Y-yes. Yes. I will. I—I promise. I’ll tell him,” Yousef pleads.
Caz stares at him a moment longer, then lowers the gun and steps away. “Okay then.” He tucks the gun into the holster inside his coat. “Run. Now.”
Yousef nods and scrambles away, not daring to look back. Rowan lifts his gun and points it at Yousef’s back, and Caz raises a hand to the top of Rowan’s gun, lowering it to the ground.
“Let me use it once today. At least a shot in the leg,” Rowan says in a near pout. “He’d still make it to Ripple Hills.”
“If Yousef ever returns to my tavern, you can aim for more than his leg next time.”
Rowan rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t protest as he puts the gun away.
“Right! Show’s over!” Killian barks, waving his bloody hands. “Get the fuck back in the tavern or go home!”
The bystanders grumble as they make their way inside again, and as they do, Caz turns and looks at me, as if he’s just now noticing me.
“I told you to stay in the car,” he snaps.
“Who’s this?” Killian demands.
“He won’t tell us,” Rowan says. “He’s being all secretive about her. You think that means he has a thing for her, brother?”
“Depends on where she’s from,” Killian says, still glaring.
“Fuck off, both of you,” Caz grumbles. “Have either of you seen your mother?”
“Last I heard, she was visiting Helen.”
“I need her,” Caz says, then he looks at me again. “And you.” He points a stern finger at me. “Since you clearly have a hard time following orders, come inside where I can watch you.”
I can’t believe there’s a place I’m more terrified of than his home or the forest that surrounds it. This tavern doesn’t seem like a place for a woman to be, but he doesn’t wait for me to protest. He doesn’t seem like the type to wait for anything.
Caz marches into the tavern, the two men trail him, and I draw in a lungful of salty air before entering the tavern too.
Fifteen
WILLOW
The tavern has a historic vibe, which I find interesting because here are these men with their big guns and fancy, futuristic cars, and yet everything inside this place looks to be made of items from the 1920s. Even down to the way they dress, in their dark clothing, thick trousers, and black caps. All of it feels aged, yet there’s something about it that screams it’s ahead of my world.
They have unique clothes and guns. Even the liquor on their bar doesn’t look like ours. Theirs is in bigger bottles made of steel instead of glass, with black and brown labels. The glass tumblers they use are a crystal-like vintage. Folk music blares from the speakers, and men are shouting as they slam cards and poker chips down on a table during a heated card game.
Women dressed in short dresses sit on some of the men’s laps, and behind the bar is a man and woman in all black serving drinks. It’s like The Great Gatsby and Blade Runner had a baby.
Caz and his henchmen march past the bar, and most of the people steer clear. A woman literally leans back so she doesn’t touch them as they pass. They continue down a dimly lit hallway and make a left.