Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
“What is it?” I ask. “Is it Sandy? Luis?”
“No,” he breathes out, looking at me. “It’s King.”
My back straightens, my eyes going to Pearl. Sleeping. “King?”
“He’s alive.”
“What?” I breathe, standing up, shaking. “How?” I watched him go down. Saw the boat blow up.
“The Coast Guard pulled him out of the water a few hundred yards offshore.” Danny stands, twitching. “He was brought in. Unconscious.”
“He’s here?” I ask, already heading to the door. Jesus fucking Christ. In the same building as Pearl while she was lying on a fucking operating table?
“Brad, wait,” Beau calls.
“Fuck that.” I swing the door open and walk face first into James. “Where the fuck have you been?” I bark. “King’s still fucking alive. Move.”
“No.”
I slam James against a wall with force, my anger and panic feeding my strength. But he doesn’t retaliate, his face annoyingly impassive.
“Calm down,” Danny says, massaging my shoulders until I release my hold of James.
“Calm down?” I clench my hair with my hands. Kill him. “Where is he?” I stalk off. “Stay with Pearl and Nolan,” I yell over my shoulder, marching on, heading for the emergency room.
“Brad, wait,” Beau calls.
I stalk past Rose and Ella at the café, their bodies turning as I pass. “What’s going on?” Rose calls.
“Brad, wait!” Beau clips my heels. “He’s not in the emergency room.”
I stop dead in my tracks, facing her, my stomach bottoming out. “He’s gone?”
James moves in, his phone at his ear. “Excellent. Appreciated.” He hangs up and stalks off, and I frown at his back as he goes.
“Where the fuck is he going?” Danny asks.
Good question.
“Go with him.” Beau pushes me on, ignoring my confused face. “Both of you.” She directs Danny as well. “Now.” Then she claims a bemused Rose and Ella and walks them off.
We follow James for what feels like miles, and he doesn’t look back once. Because he knows we’re here. The hospital gets quieter the farther we go, until the echo of our boots is all the company we have. James eventually comes to a stop. I peer at Danny, as he peers at me.
Then we both look up to the sign above the door.
* * *
MORGUE
* * *
James pushes through the door, and I step tentatively in, gazing around at the endless fridges. He goes to the one on the far side of the room and flips a few catches. He pulls the door and the slab rolls out, the sound of metal on metal deafening.
My mouth falls open.
“The fuck?” Danny whispers moving in, looking up and down the metal, taking in the bloody, naked body.
A body that is far from dead. Unconscious, yes, bound and gagged, yes, but not dead.
I step back. Rage replaces my shock. Three fresh bullet wounds and endless old scars mar his body.
“Well, this is a turn out for the books,” I muse, noticing for the first time the table behind us. Laid out with every surgical instrument known to man.
James moves to the next fridge. Pulls it out.
“Fuck me,” I whisper as Luis tries to yell past the makeshift gag.
“And finally,” James muses, moving to the next fridge. Anticipation swirls in my gut. For Danny. For James. For me. He pulls the fridge open and takes it with both hands, bending at his knees and pulling it. I inhale, looking at Danny.
“I’m excited,” he says darkly, staring at Sandy. “So fucking excited.” He walks to the table and picks up one of the piles of scrubs, grinning like an idiot. “I’ve always wanted to try these.” He tosses some to me, some to James, and we all get into them. Head scarfs, face masks, the whole shebang. And gloves. Danny wriggles his on, making a meal of snapping the wrists.
I manage one. There’s no fucking way I’ll squeeze my swollen hand into the other.
We stand in a triangle, all scrubbed up. “Shall we take a selfie?” Danny says over a laugh. “I feel like I need this in the family photo album.”
I roll my eyes, quickly texting Beau to tell her to call me immediately if Pearl comes back around. I don’t tell her where I am. She knows. And I’m not leaving this room until King is in pieces. I refuse to let Pearl wake up again in a world where he’s still alive. “Let’s get on with it.” I pick up the first thing I can lay my hands on. A saw. I eye it as I move in on King. “Oh, he’s awake,” I muse, watching him coming round, squinting, looking all kinds of groggy. “Bet you didn’t expect to see me again.” Poor guy. He looks like he’s woken up in a nightmare. He has no idea. I reach for some surgical gloves and stuff them in his disgusting gob as Danny casually peruses the scalpels, picking them up, tapping the end with his fingertip, humming as he does. “It’s like fucking Christmas at the morgue,” I say, looking up and down King’s solid frame. Where the fuck do I start? I hold up the saw, pouting as King’s eyes widen. “The Enigma’s been busy.”