Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“Who the fuck are you?” Colton asked, the onion and garlic mixing with whiskey now.
“My name’s Jason, I’ve been meaning to chat with you for a while.”
He bristled, sitting up. “What the hell do you want to chat about?” The way he said the word was mocking in tone, carrying an acidic bite. He glanced over his shoulder, and his face turned red at seeing that the girl had left.
“There’s been some incidents in Blue Creek that I was hoping you could help me with.”
“You a cop? FBI? Who the fuck are you?” His hands clenched into knuckles on the bar. Terry gave me a look from behind Colton that basically asked if I needed any help. I subtly lifted my hand and shook it. She continued to watch.
“I’m a private detective, and I’m not here to start any kind of fight or argument. I just want to ask you a few things.”
The eye contact between us produced enough heat to kickstart a fire. Colton’s anger was rising at an exponential rate, the twitch in his nose one of the only physical signs of it. “Fuck. You.”
“Colton, how was your relationship with Sammy? And did you ever confront Marco about—”
I saw the fist move in slow motion, rising in an arc from the bar top and coming straight for the right side of my face. I swiveled and dipped my head to the left, allowing just enough space for Colton’s punch to fly past me, a ring on his knuckle grazing my cheek but the rest of my face being spared.
And then all hell broke loose.
I ducked as another punch was attempted. Someone from one of the booths shouted over the upbeat music. Colton attempted another punch, but I was already at an advantage and pushed forward, grabbing him around the stomach and knocking him off the stool.
He fell to the ground in a shocked heap, the air being forced from his lungs. It wasn’t enough to stop him from jerking his knee up and slamming it straight into my crotch.
Suddenly it was my turn to fall to the ground, my stomach feeling like it was ripped right out of my dick hole. I groaned and looked up as Colton went to grab a stool. He almost lifted it above his head before Ryan kicked him from behind, directly under the kneecap and dropping him to the floor. I rolled, the barstool crashing onto the ground, right where I’d been.
And still Colton wasn’t done. He shot up and swung at Ryan, hitting him under the chin. Ryan retaliated, punching back and landing one square in the center of Colton’s face.
Blood began to pour from his nose. He touched it and looked at it as if surprised. Like someone believing his actions would never have consequences.
I was up on my feet and had Colton’s back to me, now.
Rookie fucking move.
I went in and locked an arm around Colton’s throat before I kicked a leg between his, looping it around and twisting. He fell, almost gracefully, to the floor as I held him in a chokehold. He struggled against me, trying to claw at my forearms, slapping them and reaching around, squirming under me.
Nothing worked. I had him.
“It would have been much easier if you just answered my questions,” I said, catching my breath. Outside, the telltale sounds of police sirens started growing louder and louder.
20
MATTHEW HALE
The police station smelled like lemons and beer, a mixture of the cleaning products sloshing over the five cans of natty someone had emptied from their stomach. The slightly less intoxicated frat bro leaned back in the chair and started to fall asleep until an officer gave him a shake and took him to the back for processing. He must have done something considerably stupid to land at the station, which wasn’t busy with much else, it seemed. Not surprising for a small town, but still slightly unnerving. I didn’t like quiet police stations; it made me feel like someone somewhere wasn’t doing their job properly.
I crossed the empty waiting area and let the officer behind the plexiglass barrier know I was here to see the sheriff. She apparently had some big news to share on the Pegasus case, my phone’s nonstop ringing what woke me and Jace up from some of the best sleep of my life.
I hope Jason’s having a good time.
Getting out of his bed this morning had been a mission and a half. I didn’t want to let him go. I loved feeling his back rise and fall against my chest with every tiny breath he took. There had been a delicious warmth under the covers that never grew hot enough to be uncomfortable, something I found to be the case with every other guy I had slept next to. I had found paradise all over again, and I didn’t want to let it go this time, not even for a moment.