Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
And I’m not talking petty theft or getting caught speeding.
I’m talking about the types of crimes that guarantee the perpetrator a spot in hell.
Drug dealing.
Murder.
Rape.
Those were the crimes we were trying to fix.
“I need the address,” I said hoarsely.
Casten slid a piece of paper at me.
“We’ll go when he gets home. The girl says he works in Jefferson as a mechanic,” Casten said. “Doesn’t get home until after eight in the evening.”
I nodded.
“You’ve got a date.”
Before I could get up to leave, though, Peek stopped me with a raised hand.
“You won’t go without us,” he ordered.
My jaw clenched.
“I won’t go without you,” I assured him.
I was lying.
I was going to go now. I was going to figure out any and all connections this man had to my ex-fucking wife and her douche of a husband, and I was going to make them all pay for what had happened to my son.
One broken bone at a goddamned time if I had to.
Chapter 3
The beard made me do it.
-Lenore’s last words
Lenore
I took walks at night when I couldn’t sleep.
This night was no different.
Working nearly every night, until a minimum of two in the morning, meant I had an unusual sleep pattern.
Uncertain was a small town. Population five hundred.
Although very beautiful, the town had a certain ‘feel’ to it.
It wasn’t often that I could tell you just what that feel was, but tonight, I could almost taste the danger in the air.
I had my dog, Doogan, with me.
That didn’t help, though.
There was something going on in my neighborhood, and I just knew I shouldn’t have come out tonight.
“Come on, Doogan. Let’s go home,” I whispered, too afraid to make too much noise.
Doogan suddenly stopped at my side, and I stopped with him.
Doogan was my baby, even if he didn’t look much like a baby anymore at eighty pounds.
He was as smart as a whip and beautiful to boot.
He just wasn’t very fast, and when he didn’t want to go somewhere…he didn’t.
Doogan is a Neapolitan Mastiff. He was already a good eighty pounds, and according to the vet, he wasn’t finished growing yet.
I’d found him on the side of the road when he was just a newly born pup.
These lonely highways were a popular place to abandon dogs, and I spent the majority of my time looking for them when I wasn’t working at my shop.
I volunteered at the shelter two towns over, crossing over into Louisiana to do it.
And it wasn’t unheard of for me to bring dogs with me when I went.
Sadly, I couldn’t keep them all.
I just couldn’t afford it.
Doogan was bad enough when he required a fifty-pound bag of dog food a week.
“Come on, Doogan,” I urged, giving his collar a tug.
Doogan didn’t budge, which was why I had a front row seat as a man sailed over the railing of Mr. Marshall’s porch, and landed about ten feet away from where I was standing.
“Oh, my God,” I breathed.
I didn’t move, though, because the man was suddenly surrounded.
Men in leather were everywhere…but the one man that held my attention was stomping down the porch steps and heading straight to the man on the ground.
Griffin, the man who’d bought batteries from me just two days ago, was well and truly pissed.
When his eyes swung to me, I didn’t know what to do.
Should I run?
Stay where I was?
Question after question barreled through my mind, leaving me shaking in fear…and something else I wasn’t ready to admit to just yet.
“Go home,” he ordered.
I blinked, looking to my left and right to be sure he was talking to me.
Since I didn’t see anyone else around me, I decided he was talking to me, but I just couldn’t get my legs to cooperate out of fear.
Not to mention that I would have to walk through the lot of them to get to my house.
When I didn’t move fast enough, he issued the order again, only this time it was biting.
“Go. Home,” he snapped.
I turned on my heel and started walking, coming to a sudden stop when Doogan still refused to move.
“Mother of God,” I whispered. “Come on Doog,” I whispered frantically. “Let’s go.”
He did move, just not in the correct direction.
No, he walked straight up to Griffin and licked his hand, a hand that was stuck out, not in invitation to approach, but instead to stop the dog from getting too close to him.
“Can’t you control your fuckin’ dog?” He grated out angrily.
Tears were stinging my eyes, because, by that point, I had the attention of not just Griffin, but the whole freakin’ lot of them.
My heart was beating frantically in my chest as they watched me, and I just knew that if I didn’t get the hell out of there I’d get the hell beaten out of me…or worse.
“Where do you live?” Griffin asked, taking a hold of Doogan’s leash.
It slipped from my hands, and I watched in helpless horror as it did.
And what did Doogan do?
He freakin’ followed him!
“Umm,” I whispered. “Three duplexes down from here.”
“Be back,” Griffin said as he took my hand in his free one and started to walk me back to my house.
The men returned their stares on the man they were circling, and I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see one of the big ones kick the poor guy on the ground next to his feet.
He didn’t say a word, and neither did I.
I was too scared.
What if he beat the shit out of me?
Raped me?
What if…
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Griffin growled, interrupting my inner diatribe.
“I know,” I lied.
He snorted. “Stop shaking. I said I wouldn’t harm you. I’m a cop.”
Yeah, but good cops didn’t beat the shit out of people in the dark of night.
So what did that make him?
“Keys,” Griffin said, snapping me out of my reverie.
I did not want to give this man the keys.
But did I have much of a choice?
No.
So I gave the man my keys, as I nervously watched him walk into my house, look through all my rooms, before heading in the direction of my bedroom.