Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I was not expecting that. Like… having to go up and talk to Ike Monroe was not even in the top million things I was worried about today and now it’s number one.
I walk home in a daze, hoping that Collin is there so that maybe he can see that I’m upset and make me tell him what’s wrong so I don’t have to take responsibility for blabbing my mouth off and I can just let Collin handle all the things.
His Jeep is there, but when I check inside, he’s not home.
I might be the damsel in distress right in this moment, but unfortunately for me, there isn’t a prince in sight. So I just get in my truck and start making my way up the hill. Because today—nine years after I walked out of Blackberry Hill under the protection of the entire town of Disciple—I’m going back in under explicit orders of Jim Bob Baptist and no one has my back.
What will Ike do?
Will he yell at me?
Will he hit me?
I really don’t think so. He wasn’t that kind of man the last time I saw him.
But that was nine years ago and he’s a much different person now.
The streets are mostly sleepy even though it’s a little after eleven by the time we enter downtown.
Amon must notice too, because he says, “Everything’s closed on Mondays, right? Is that how it works?”
“I don’t know. You’d know better than I do. I never came here much when we were kids.”
“I can’t really remember it being a thing, but it makes sense. Weekends are big here. Lots of partyin’, ya know. Sure looks deserted though, don’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “Maybe this is a big waste of time.”
“Well, we’re here, so we might as well check it out.” He points to a building about halfway down the street. “Let’s try McGills. Back in the day, that’s where I used to go.”
McGills is a tavern and it’s got a sign on the door that says ‘open,’ so what the hell. We head that way and when we get there, Amon just pulls the door open and walks in.
There are a handful of customers inside. Two sittin’ on opposite ends of the bar, one fucking with the jukebox, and two more playing pool.
There’s also a bartender. Girl, maybe twenty-one. Blonde hair pulled back, black t-shirt that says ‘McGills’ on it in white letters, and very big blue eyes. Amon walks up to her and says, “We’re lookin’ for Lucas. Can ya help us?”
She eyeballs him. Then me. Then back to him. “Depends on who’s askin’.”
“Amon Parrish and Collin Creed. We’re from Disciple.”
“Lucas is my cousin,” I add. “He told me to come by and visit. I just got back into town.”
“Hmmmph.” That’s all she says. But she turns, walks away, and disappears behind a swinging door.
“Why do I feel like we walked into something here, Amon?”
“Keep cool. It’s typical paranoia.” He turns to smile at me. “You just forgot how it was.”
“Maybe.” I sigh. But of course, I did get threatened by mountain men just an hour ago, so maybe I just never understood how complicated the fuckin’ Trinity is and today is my day to be schooled.
A moment later the girl is back. “He’s down on A Street. Go out here, take a left, then your first right. That’s A. He’s the second house on the right. It’s big and white, ya can’t miss it.”
“Thank ya very much,” Amon says, tipping an imaginary hat at her.
But she’s already turned her back to us. So I just do the same and head out the door.
“We should just go,” I say, once Amon has caught up outside.
“Why? We’re here to fuckin’ visit. It’s not a big deal. We just come off as outsiders, that’s all. Once we set them all straight, it’ll go better.”
“Well, I don’t really have anything to say to Lucas. I was just coming by to be polite.”
“So be polite.”
We find the house easy enough. It’s massive. One of the stately ones, not simply big. We climb the stairs to the significant front porch and Amon knocks on the door.
Both of us lean in, trying to hear something. A few seconds later, we hear footsteps thudding across a wooden floor. The door opens and—
“What the fuck?” Amon laughs. “What the hell are you doin’ here, Grimm?”
Grimm doesn’t answer Amon. He looks straight at me. “I was coming here to talk to Lasher about you and Lowyn.”
I fuckin’ knew it. I fuckin’ knew it. Something is going on here.
Amon is confused. “What the hell are you talkin’ about, Grimm?”
The door opens wider and then another man appears. Very tall, maybe six-two—six-three. Muscular, a little bit older than me, long blond hair and a beard to match. He looks even more like a Viking than Lucas. I vaguely remember him, but only because Grimm just used his name a few seconds ago. “Lasher,” I say. He’s my… step-uncle? Lucas’s step-father? My mother’s one-time brother-in-law? Kinda?