Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Gettin’ answers,” Snake grinds out. “This is takin’ too long, Jagger. Do your job.”
Jagger moves quickly, pulling a gun from his jeans and grabbing Snake by the neck, slamming him against the wall and pressing it to his neck. My eyes widen as I watch the man, who was so confident only minutes ago, turn pale as he’s faced with the reality of having that cold steel right against his flesh.
“You doubtin’ me?” Jagger snarls, baring his teeth in a way that makes him look terrifying.
“We need answers,” Snake mutters, his voice hoarse.
“And we’ll fuckin’ get them when I say it’s time to get them. You keep your hands off.”
“She was bein’ a smart ass, she deserved what she got.”
“I don’t give a fuck what she’s doin’, it ain’t your place to be in here. She’s my business. If I see you lay a fuckin’ finger on her again, I’ll gut you.” Jagger drops the gun and shoves the man out of the way, and then he turns and stares at me, his eyes scanning over the blood on the hand that is still pressed against my head.
“Answer the question, girl.”
“I did,” I say, my voice weaker than I’d like. “I don’t know a damned thing about my father.”
“Tell me the name of the police officer that came and informed you of your father’s death.”
I close my eyes, trying to remember. I consider lying, but I know that won’t benefit me. Whatever my father got himself into, he chose to leave Jenny and me behind to make sure he was protected for it. What about us? Did he even consider that we could be in danger? The man I thought was a hero turns out to be just a phony.
“Huck,” I mumble, opening my eyes and staring at Jagger.
“Fuckin’ knew it,” one of the other guys mutters.
“What did they say happened to him?” Jagger goes on.
I swallow. Keep calm, just answer the questions and they’ll leave. “He was in a car accident.”
“Did you overhear Huck saying anything unusual, at any time?”
I close my eyes, trying to remember that time. I was devastated, trying to look after my sister and trying to stop my mother from killing herself in the first week. There was once, though, because even through my hard time, I thought it was odd. I found Huck out back on the phone after he had come to ask my mother questions. He spent a whole lot of time asking her questions. Whoever he was talking to, it was very rapid.
“He was talking to a guy named Ben. He was telling him not to breathe a word of this,” I say, repeating what I can recall. “Something about ... if anyone finds out what is going on, we’re all dead. Then he said something about Manchez and his gang doing anything to get information.”
“Is that all?”
I nod, and he turns toward the other guys. “Angel, Ace, and Rusty, you three go out and find Huck. It’s time we have a word.”
Three of the men retreat with a sharp nod, and the other two remain, staring at me with hard expressions. It never occurred to me until now just what I am dealing with. These men are part of something very dangerous. They’re dangerous. It’s written all over them. Maybe I’m not as safe here as I would have liked to think.
“Leave,” Jagger snaps, and the other two exit the room.
When they’re gone, he turns to me. “Come with me.”
We’re leaving the room? He’s letting me out? I follow him out the door and out into the massive house. It’s big, but I already knew that. The room I’m in is nice, but when I look out the window I can see other parts of the house if I look hard enough. We walk into a massive kitchen, with marbled benches and chrome fittings. Jagger takes my shoulder and shoves me down onto a stool, opening the cupboards and coming back with a first-aid kit.
I don’t dare say a word. If he’s helping me, then maybe my plan just might work. If he actually begins to like me, maybe I have a chance here. He pulls out some swabs and begins wiping my cheek to remove the blood that has trickled down. Neither of us speak. He then moves on to the wound on my temple, washing it before putting a patch over it. Gripping my chin, he tilts my head back so the light shines down over my face. Then he releases me with a sharp nod and scoops up the swabs.
“Why is your nickname Jagger?” I ask, daring to take the risk.
He pauses midway through throwing them into the bin. It seems my question has stumped him. He drops the rest of them in and then looks over at me with narrowed eyes.