Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“I don’t know,” he bit out. “That’s what I am trying to figure out. If you would be quiet.”
She glared at him, then reached for her phone.
“Don’t touch it, Sol,” I said, causing her to spin around and look back at me.
She didn’t like being told what to do. The spoiled heiress was used to getting what she wanted.
“I don’t care who your daddy is.”
Her back stiffened, and she looked from me to Thatcher, but said nothing. I could see the defiance in her eyes, but I also knew she wasn’t going to do anything. I held out my hand for her phone. She hesitated, and then Thatcher cleared his throat, and her eyes darted to him. Her jaw clenched tight, but I could see the uneasy look come over her. She stepped forward and placed her phone in my hand.
Abilene was trembling beside me, and I did wish I wasn’t forced to hold on to her to keep her out here. She wasn’t as tough as Sol was. This was someone’s momma I was scaring the shit out of, and I could hear Maeme in my ear, scolding me for doing it.
I turned to look down at the older lady. “Ms. Abilene, if I let go of you, will you go sit right there and not move?” I asked her, pointing at a chair underneath an umbrella but in my direct view.
She nodded.
“Good,” I replied, releasing her.
She hurried over to the shade and sat down.
“Now,” I said, turning my attention back to Jameson, “you were told to stay away from Briar Landry.”
The instant fear in his eyes just pissed me off. I had to remain calm and not kill the fucker.
“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” he shot back at me, as if that was going to send me away.
“Even if I didn’t have the proof that you had a tracker and a wire on her car all the way in Miami, I’d know you were lying.”
Jameson opened his mouth to say something, but Thatcher stepped forward until he was right beside me. “Let’s not draw this shit out. I have things to do. You know who the fuck she is. If you want your fiancée to know the details, I’ll happily supply them.”
Jameson’s nostrils flared as sweat beaded on his forehead. If Sol found out about his affair, she’d have him killed herself. I wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.
I flicked my gaze over to Sol, who was now glaring at the back of Jameson’s head.
“Who the fuck is Briar Landry?!” she screeched.
“What do I have to do to get you both to leave?” Jameson asked as his breathing hitched up, and he looked physically ill.
“It’s simple. If you ever—and I mean, even on fucking accident—breathe the same air as Briar, I will kill you slowly. If you try hiring some other lowlife to track or hurt her, you will die. I’ll find out. I’ll know, and I’ll come for you.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he nodded. “Fine. I don’t care what the bitch does.”
My gun was in my hand and instantly pressed between his eyes as I scowled at the bastard.
“Bad choice of words. Very bad.” Thatcher’s voice was laced with amusement.
“OH MY GOD!” Sol cried out, and I unfortunately heard Ms. Abilene crying.
Jameson was trembling as his eyes stayed locked with mine. I wanted to kill him. Rip his heart out. But I wasn’t allowed to, and this way would be too good for him. I wanted him to suffer if I took his life.
“Never speak of her like that. Never speak of her again. Briar is mine.” I snarled the last word, and he blinked as those words settled on him. “Do you understand me? This is not a threat. It is a motherfucking promise.”
“Yes,” he replied in a hoarse voice, frozen and afraid to move.
“Good,” I said with a sadistic curl of my lips as I put my gun back in its holster.
I swung my gaze over to Abilene. “Sorry about that, ma’am,” I told her, then stepped back from Jameson. “If you’re clear, then we are done here. The next time, there won’t be any talking.”
“There won’t be a next time.” Jameson’s voice was harder now that he didn’t have a gun at his head. “Waste of—”
“That’s it, dumbass. Keep talking shit about her. He’s gonna splatter your brains all over Sol,” Thatcher said in a bored tone.
Jameson tensed and nodded his head. He’d suffer some, but not enough. Sol was about to rip him a new asshole. Not my problem.
“Think that’s about it then,” Thatcher said, then winked at Sol. “If you need a real man to fuck, sugar, you know where to find me.”
If I wasn’t strung so tight, I’d have laughed at Jameson’s expression. I threw Sol’s phone into the deepest end of the pool.