Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64320 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 257(@250wpm)___ 214(@300wpm)
“I don’t know any Samantha …” he tries to lie, and I shoot off the gun again, feeling the shockwaves run up my arm. It’s closer to him this time and Andrew screams out.
“He pissed himself,” Mason comments and when I look, sure enough, his sweats have a dark wet ring around him. He’s pathetic.
“That Andrew Jones?” I ask him.
“She wanted him dead!” he yells. “She was going to do it whether I helped her or not.”
“You can tell her husband that; I’m sure he’ll understand,” Mason says and then tosses handcuffs at his feet. “Put those on. First your feet, then your hands.”
“Please,” he begs. But there’s no mercy for what he’s done.
It takes a good fifteen minutes to tie him up. The gagging was the hardest part.
The trunk slams shut, and the dark night seems so empty. Empty is what I needed, though. It’s done and over.
Mason turns the car on, the keys jingling in the ignition before it roars to life and we leave in silence, listening to the fucker in the back. It’s already starting to snow. They’re calling for ten inches and that will wash away any evidence of us being here. Not that anyone will come looking for a while. Like he told us, he doesn’t do meets here.
My heartbeat slows, and the end feels so fucking close. Every loose end is finally being resolved.
“Thanks for doing this,” I tell Mason, ignoring Andrew’s muted thumps in the trunk as we go over a speed bump and then another.
“No problem.” His nonchalant response is as if I’ve only thanked him for picking up milk on the way home.
“I just needed to do something about it all.” I feel the need to explain. We could have let Mason’s guy take care of him. I needed some kind of part in seeing this through, even if I promised Kat I’d stay out of it. It’s the last secret and I’m done. One last deal to see through.
“It’s not like he doesn’t have it coming to him.”
I nod at Mason’s comment and listen to Andrew’s muffled screams.
“You sure he’s going to be here?” Mason asks me as we pull up to a vacant lot.
Even as the car slows, I can see James inside, moving aside a curtain in the bedroom.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I tell him.
I know James is here. He’s waiting for sentencing and not going anywhere near the city. He’s hiding.
I know what that’s like.
“You ready?” Mason asks me, and I nod once again. “Let’s do this.”
We’ll leave Andrew bound and gagged on James’s porch. And the hard copy photos James kept of me are already in my possession.
It’s a truce of sorts. I give him his final piece, he gives me mine.
More than likely he won’t see a day in jail and half his charges were already dismissed. His wife is sentenced to prison for life, his worries behind him. All but the drug dealer. He was foaming at the mouth to get him.
It was an easy call to make.
Andrew’s slamming every which way, but it’s 4:00 a.m. in the suburbs. There isn’t another house for nearly half a mile. Even if I took the gag out of his lying mouth, there’s no one here but us and James.
James is right there in the doorway, rifle ready.
“Just leave him here,” I tell Mason and we let Andrew drop to the ground with a muffled scream piercing the air. “James will take him from here.”
With the cold air blowing in my face and the city skyline lighting up the dark night, I finally relax into the leather seat. The bite of pain that hovers over every cracked knuckle is all that’s left of what happened. It’ll heal and my life will go on.
I’m done now. It’s all done.
It’s just me and Kat now. Just the two of us.
No. The three of us.
Chapter 31
Kat
“Do you think he told the cops anything to try to get a lighter sentence?” I ask Evan as the newspaper in my hand rustles.
Samantha pled guilty to multiple attempted murder charges and got life in prison.
James pleaded guilty to his charges as well, but his sentence is nothing compared to hers even though they found him complicit in his client’s death. It’s rumored that he gave up information to cut a deal. He’ll be out of jail in a year or less according to what the rumor mills are saying. The dealer got off scot-free and now people are saying he skipped town in case more evidence comes in.
“Told them what exactly?” He doesn’t look back at me. Instead he lifts a picture frame off the wall of his parents’ dining room. He considers it for a moment before wrapping a handful of bubble wrap around it like he has the others.
The moving company is going to be here tomorrow, but Evan wanted to box up the pictures and a few other things himself. The valuable things is what he told me when we left this morning. All he’s packed up so far are pictures and I wish I could steal the pain away that reflects back in the glass as I catch his gaze.