Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 681(@200wpm)___ 545(@250wpm)___ 454(@300wpm)
“You don’t know that!” he snarls, hateful eyes flickering in the moonlight.
“Don’t I?” I force a sly, harsh smile.
“Fuck off. You’re bamboozling me when I’ve got you cornered like a stuck rat.” He pauses midstep. “If Goode’s flipped, then why were you asking him about my release?”
“So I’d be ready for you and him,” I whisper.
“You don’t even know where he’s at! Last time I say it, shut your—”
“Believe me, I know.” I let out a false chuckle. “The real question is, do you?”
He gives Tory a hard tug backward, dragging her onto the run-down dock.
“Of course, I do! Quit playing games. You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Faulkner.”
The edge in his voice is music to my ears.
Angry men are careless men, and careless men get stupid.
Knowing he’s starting to crack, I take several steps closer, ahead of the grunt pushing his gun in my back.
“It’s not obvious? Goode helped orchestrate the prison hit on Jake, just like he let you get away with yours on Jake’s killer. Then he set you up to be arrested so he could get the full cut of your dirty money, managing your operation, letting you think you were still calling the shots. Every message you ever sent to your boys from jail had to go through him, didn’t it?”
Pickett says nothing, standing paralyzed, an angry colossus hate-glaring into the night.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, now,” I say slowly. “And why’d he help you get out on early parole and scare some poor judge into sealing your records? Sure as hell wasn’t for your gain.”
“We’re...we’re partners!” he stammers. “Goode knows I swore revenge on you for killing Jake! He fucking helped us get this—all of this—lined up, you liar.”
“I didn’t kill Jake. I wasn’t in that prison. But I wonder who the boys that drowned your brother were really working for?” The wheels are turning in his head now, so I walk a little faster, right toward him. “And how about our friends here tonight? Who hired them? You or Goode?”
“Shut up!” he shouts. “Shut up. You don’t know shit, you bastard Fed. You don’t know—”
“Yes, I do,” I say sternly. “I’m right about Goode. I’m right about you being dumber than dirt. I’m right about your helpers planning to throw you to the wolves and run, just when you need ’em the most, and you know it.”
An odd, faint, somewhat eerie slapping sound echoes across the lake, which causes everyone to pause and whip around.
Wondering if it’s my three musketeers, I scan the waters.
If I know my friends, Ridge and Drake will take the lead, and Grady will hang back with his sniper rifle. If I’m lucky, he’s got a nightscope and a direct bead on the back of Bat’s head right now.
Pickett turns away a second later, facing me again with those crazy eyes.
It’s hard to tell for sure, but I catch a glint of something in the moonlight.
A canoe or small boat gliding this way. If they’re smart, they’re rowing real slow, keeping it deathly quiet.
Tick-tock.
I have to get this over with before they arrive and get in harm’s way.
“Goode’s going down one way or another, I promise you,” I tell Bat. “The FBI already knows everything. The best and brightest are about to ram his dick in the door.”
“Like hell!”
“You should’ve picked your friends wisely, Bat. Dirty cops are the worst. They always believe they’re above the law till it all comes crashing down.” I hope he can see my grin in the darkness.
Snarling, Bat jerks his gun at me, away from Tory.
Thank God.
“Why isn’t he here right now, Bat?” I ask, certain that Goode’s heading to my place, planting evidence to implicate me in his dirty dealings just like James suggested.
It’s too clear now and infuriates me that I hadn’t seen it sooner. Tory wouldn’t be in danger right now if I had. And I wouldn’t have to stand here in the middle of the night, repeating myself to this shitheel, willing him to do something stupid and give me the opening I need.
“Why isn’t he here right now?” I ask again.
“Because I’m in charge here!” Bat roars, looking too much like a monster from a bad B-movie in the pale moonlight. “I’m calling the shots, you asshole—not Ted Goode—and I’ve had it up to here with your bullshit.” He motions to his goons, who close in.
The man behind me shoves his gun in my back, harder, while two more grab at my arms.
“Back on track. I’ll make you watch, Faulkner.” Bat takes a heavy step forward until he leers over me. “Come see your girlfriend get the same treatment my brother did. An eye for an eye.”
For a tall pissed off maniac, he’s quicker than I give him credit for.
In less than the blink of an eye, he shoves Tory down and grabs her by the hair, aiming to push her head over the edge of the half-collapsed dock where the water ebbs high, straight into the water.