Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Steering away from the curb, I headed off in the opposite direction... to Sheriff Sharpe.
“We still need the Ellises dead. What’s the plan now?”
“The Bedlam Boys can figure out the how and where. The only thing I need to do is provide the motivation.” I dipped my chin. “Paris. We grab her next. Cairo endured Riot Royale to protect her from the Crows. He cares about her, even if he pretends he doesn’t.”
“Wish we could grab one of the Sisters. The judge or the dean.”
“Me too, but they don’t make it easy like the partying Paris, or the alcoholic cop. As long as we can get the Bedlam Boys to do what we want with just the girl, we don’t overplay our hand.”
They shrugged. “Where are we putting the sheriff’s body? We don’t need him to be found when he’s conveniently on vacation. When he goes missing, the cops will spend all their time looking in the wrong place.”
“That would be convenient, but as I said, I’m a man of my word. The town will wake up tomorrow and find Sheriff Sharpe’s mangled body in the town square, surrounded by a ring of fire.”
IVY
One eye swollen shut, but Quinn managed to glare at me just fine through the other one. I’d give this monster something, she didn’t go down easily.
“Where is Sheriff Sharpe!”
“I’m not... telling you... shit,” she wheezed. “But you can go back... and tell Cairo... how you failed.”
Her laugh rattled in her chest. “He’ll die... and it’ll be all your fault. Cairo will never forgive you.”
I shook—the bloody club trembling in my hold. It killed me that she was right. Cairo would never forgive me, because I was too late.
It was seven o’clock.
The party had started. Steven Ellis was stepping up to a podium at that moment to grandstand, and wax on about destroying our town for his profit being the best thing for everybody.
Anger corroded my veins. I wasn’t done with that cheating bastard yet. First I lose my sister for protecting Cairo. Now I lose Cairo because this bald shit stain was protecting her buddies. The Men of Honor had taken so much from me. When would it end?
“Hours of questioning and you didn’t crack.”
“Fucking right I didn’t.” She spat blood in my direction. “Never will.”
“Then, there’s no point asking you about the Black Letter Crew. Who is in it or what you’re planning?”
“None at all.”
I bobbed my head, lips pushed out. “That makes things simple. If I’ve got nothing to lose, Cunningham, I’ve got nothing holding me back. You might as well die now.”
Quinn’s bloody smile slipped. “What? You’re not—”
“I hope you and Zoe enjoy your victory over me in hell.”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Goodbye, Quinn.”
I swung, striking her chest dead center. The hit knocked the air out of her, trapping her scream in her throat. She got no chance to recover before I hit her again. Then again. And again.
I didn’t stop until she did—her screams fading in the night.
DANTE
My car rumbled down the dirt drive. Ten years ago, this place was a charming bed-and-breakfast that didn’t get a lot of visitors, but those that did came back every year on holidays and anniversaries. That is until Foundry came in and offered the elderly couple who owned the place to sell for far more than they thought it worth.
Foundry and Steven Ellis were a leech on this town. They were plague. Poison. But the blame could not be shifted away from the fools who chose to drink. Why did no one else see what we had in Bedlam? This town we built on blood-soaked soil was worth fighting for.
If no one else would do it, we would.
We climbed out of the car, taking rickety, rotting steps to the busted front door. There was no good reason Sheriff Sharpe should enjoy his accommodations. Not after all the trouble this man caused Cavendish and now me.
But now he neared the end of his usefulness, which was why I finally sent that letter to the Bedlam Boys. I thought the man had information I needed, but after weeks of questioning, I could be sure that he’d have given it up if he knew. His only use now was to keep the Bedlam Boys in line, and I had other options for that. At least Paris Keller would be nice to look at.
Together we crossed the threshold, stepping into a long hallway that still held the memory of the faded floral wallpaper, cobweb-covered lamps, and green carpet that had long since turned black and brown from grime.
The filthy carpet muffled our footfalls, and the bag of tools and trash bags my companion dragged behind them. We made sure to stop and get the best for Sheriff Sharpe. His mangled body would haunt his son’s nightmares until he finally blew his brains out. Out of respect, we had to put the effort in.