Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
He made a sound, or maybe he was trying to talk. I couldn’t tell. I didn’t give a fuck either. I leaned back on the column again and took a few pulls, watching him there. Barely breathing. Gasping every few minutes. It calmed the fury inside me when I thought of all he’d done to Rumor.
“You had a prime piece of ass. She’s completely out of your league,” I told him. “Is that it? You knew she was too good for you? Could your pointless ego not handle it? Knowing men saw her and wanted her. Was it not enough that she’d married you?”
“Thhhubid bish,” he spat out.
I straightened and took three long strides until I was inches from his face. “What did you just call her?” I asked, taking the cigarette and shoving the tip into his eye as he began to scream.
“Neither of those words apply to Rumor,” I sneered.
“I didn’t know you’d come down for playtime,” Thatcher drawled behind me.
I left the cigarette sticking in his eye as I turned to look back at him. “Figured he’d be dead soon. I wanted to get my fill.”
Thatcher walked over to the cigarettes. “Please, continue. Don’t let me stop you. I’ll watch.”
I nodded toward the plyers. “Toss me those.”
Thatcher picked them up. “I hope you tucked in our sweet little Rumor the other night. Sebastian should have warned her Minna’s margaritas are three-fourths tequila.”
I caught the plyers and grinned. “She was fine the next morning. I made sure of it before I left.”
“Good to hear,” he said before sticking the cigarette between his teeth.
When I turned back to Churchill, he was definitely looking at me, but with only one eye. The ash was jammed inside the other eye, and I could no longer see it. I wanted him to know she was enjoying life. Being taken care of properly. That while he was experiencing hell on earth before he burned in the real one, Rumor was starting anew.
“They’re saying you drained your financial accounts and fled the country,” I told him. “No one knows where, and there is even speculation that you killed your wife and hid. She can’t be found either. Sweet Carmella Millroe’s beatings were found on the video surveillance you’d kept in your home. How arrogant was that? You knew it was recording your abuse, and you didn’t fear anyone would ever find it. But don’t worry yourself. We made sure both our visits to your house were wiped clean before anyone else saw the tapes. It’s even been said that your wife might have been the one who shot you and you killed her in revenge before fleeing. The nurse and cook who had been at your house when you escaped never saw who it was that tied them up. They can’t be sure if it was you or not.”
A tremor ran through his body, and I wasn’t sure if it was from the pain or if it was from anger. He’d lost. He would die, and no one would know how or where. Rumor would get a new life. She could start over.
“Now, open wide,” I demanded, jamming the plyers into his mouth and clamping down on one of the few molars left. “I wonder if you’ll even bleed that much this time. You’re so pale. Blood loss will do that to you.”
Thatcher laughed from the stool he had taken a seat on across the room. “Finish with his teeth, and I’ll cut off his dick and shove it in his mouth.”
This time, when Churchill Millroe’s body trembled, I knew it was from the fear.
• twenty-four •
“This escape from reality was over.”
Rumor
Sitting on the front porch with my last unread book, I was lost in the story and didn’t realize Maeme’s golf cart was coming down the path. She was already parking it when I noticed I had company. I closed the book and stood up to greet her.
I’d not seen anyone since King had left two days ago. My plan was to finish the book, then text him to take me to Maeme’s library to get more. I had almost done it yesterday, but I’d admitted to myself I didn’t need to go yet. I was just thinking of an excuse to see him, and that wasn’t healthy. I couldn’t let my head go there. It was never happening.
She waved as she walked up the little stone-paved walkway. “Good morning,” she called out. “Haven’t seen you in a bit and wanted to come see how you were doing. Thought you might be getting a little stir-crazy around here.”
A few weeks ago, I would have thought that was an impossibility. The idea of staying alone out in the woods like this had seemed like heaven. But it did get a little lonely. Left to my own thoughts with no distractions could be dark at times.