Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
I shut off the engine of my car and shake my head. “Nah. He’s a pussy. The guy doesn’t have the balls for that.”
“He had enough balls to show up on your doorstep professing his love to her.”
“Yeah, but he’s from LA. The chances of him wrangling a rattlesnake out in the woods and sneaking into our alarm-armed house is slim to none. It’s someone else.”
Dempsey lifts a brow at me. “Then why are we here, man?”
“Just because he didn’t try to hurt her doesn’t mean he won’t need a warning to stay the fuck away.” I shove open my car door and climb out. Dempsey follows suit. “He needs to know where he is and who the hell he’s messing with.”
Dempsey flexes his hand. “I’m pretty sure I left a literal impression of that on his face.”
“And now I’m going to beat it into his thick skull so he doesn’t forget.”
Dempsey chuckles as we make it around to the back door of the police station. Our town isn’t huge, so our police force is pretty pathetic. Dad and Pops are pretty influential as well and have managed to keep the police at bay anytime we’re involved in anything remotely shady. It helps Sloane is on the force because she always does Pops’ bidding, even though I think she low-key despises him, only putting up with him because of Jamie being his wife.
I rap on the door and it opens a few seconds later. Sloane, though super-hot for her age, has dark circles under her eyes and wears a frown. This job must drain her soul.
“You,” Sloane says, pointing at Dempsey as she hands me a key, “can sit in my office. You’re lucky you aren’t sharing a cell with that guy after what you did to his face.”
Dempsey’s face hardens. “I thought he put a snake in my brother’s house. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
Sloane shakes her head and sighs. “Not that. Seriously, Dempsey. You’re almost eighteen. What happens if I’m not around to clean up your messes? Every time I turn around, you’re in a fight. First with Callum’s girl’s stepbrother and now this out-of-towner. One day, I won’t be able to rescue you.”
“I don’t need saving,” Dempsey growls.
I walk away, leaving them to sort out their shit alone. I’m interested in talking to this douchebag before Sloane decides to change her mind over something dumb like morals or ethics. Right now, she’s distracted by Dempsey, which works out better for me.
The key unlocks the door to where there are a few holding cells but unfortunately doesn’t gain me access to the actual cell. Luckily, though, the other cells are empty, leaving me privacy to chat with this motherfucker.
Ben sits on the metal bench, back against the wall, staring straight ahead. His nose is bruised and swollen, eyes are turning black near his nose, and blood stains his shirt. Dempsey fucked him up. He deserved it, too.
“You didn’t really think she’d throw herself into your arms, did you?” I say, approaching the cell and standing right in front of him. “I mean, she’s her and you’re you. Have you looked at your receding hairline in the mirror lately? Have you noticed that pudge in your midsection?”
Ben stands and scowls at me. “Fuck off, kid.”
“This kid has more money in his trust fund than you’ll ever have in your lifetime. I think you meant to call me sir.” I smirk and shrug. “Seriously, man. Do you think she would want some loser when she literally could have anyone on the planet?”
“I love her,” he growls, fisting his puny hands. “I love her and she loves me.”
I grip the bars and lean forward, face between them. “That’s where you’ve got it all fucked-up. She doesn’t care about you, dumbass. You caught her at a vulnerable moment where she needed comfort and release. But even though you’re old as fuck, you couldn’t fully service her daddy issues.”
“Leave me alone.”
“Not until you answer some questions first.” I lift a brow. “Did you fuck with Aubrey’s aunt’s brakes?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Have you been threatening Aubrey with snakes and pictures and letters?”
“No,” he snaps. “And if someone is, they’ll have to answer to me. I’ll take care of her. As soon as I get out of here, I’ll make her see. We can run away together and be happy.”
“Actually,” I snarl, voice dripping with hatred, “you won’t ever talk to her again.”
He scoffs. “Try and stop me.”
“Oh, I will stop you,” I warn. “Indefinitely.”
His eyes flash with uncertainty and he darts his gaze over to the door as if he could manifest someone to walk through it and save him.
No one is saving him.
“You can’t do shit,” he says weakly, retreating back to his seat on the bench.
“As soon as you post bail and get out of here, you’ll take your ass back to LA and to your wife. If you don’t, I’ll send you back through UPS in a body bag to her.”