Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“You can’t move to another territory? A safer one?”
“Not allowed,” Caz mumbles, standing near the window. He moves the curtain aside with the tip of his gun, keeping watch.
“Do you need a passport or something to leave?”
“A passport?” Tom’s face crumples with confusion, and he swings his eyes to Caz.
“Enough with the questions, Willow.” Caz turns to face Tom. “We won’t be in your hair for long. Just stay quiet, and we’ll be gone before you know it.”
Tom sits back in his chair, his eyes bouncing around the room, trying not to look Caz into his eyes. Leaning against a wall, Caz folds his arms and stays that way, icy eyes on Tom, until we hear gravel crunching outside.
Caz tilts the curtain and, pleased with what he sees, moves away from the window. He steps in front of Tom, holding up the black object he had earlier while on the porch. It’s a transmitter. After tinkering with it, he says, “I’m going to give this back to you, Tom, and when I go, you won’t contact anyone, right? You’ll behave?”
“I—I won’t. I promise.”
“Especially not with those Rippie pigs.” Caz tosses the transmitter to the man, and he catches it, but barely.
“I won’t contact anyone, Mr. Harlow. I promise.”
“Good on you.” Caz gives Tom his back and looks at me as he bobs his head at the door. “Let’s go.”
I follow him out of the door, but not without looking back at Tom. Tom lifts a hand and gives me a small wave and a smile. I wave back before walking past Caz to get outside.
Forty-Four
WILLOW
When I make it down the rickety steps of Tom’s porch, I spot the same car that was in front of Caz’s house my first day in Vakeeli. The metal gleams in the daylight, the rims covered in a coat of dirt, and standing outside of it like a soldier with a large gun in hand is Rowan.
“Caz! Nice to see you, brother!” Rowan shouts.
Caz marches around the car. “Get us to that bloody club now. Willow, get in the back.”
I resist the urge to argue as I open the back door of the car. I hear the pitter-pattering of paws, and Silvera makes her way out of the trees, trotting to me.
“Oi! Where the hell did that thing come from?” Rowan’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head as he gawks at her.
“She’s Willow’s now,” Caz responds.
Silvera jumps into the back row of the car and sits on the seat obediently. Rowan looks at me, his chin down and mouth ajar, before he shakes his head and climbs into the car. I get in and shut the door, and Rowan says, “That thing better not shed on my fucking seats. Even Cerberus isn’t allowed in my car.”
Silvera growls, her eyes on Rowan, and I rub her back, hoping it’ll calm her down. “Careful, Rowan. Silvera doesn’t seem to like men very much. She almost chewed Caz’s face off earlier.”
“Oh, if only Cerberus were here,” Rowan chuckles.
Caz points ahead. “Drive.”
Rowan puts the car in gear, driving away from Tom’s house. I look through the back window at the lone shack, and when I do, the house explodes.
A scream escapes me as chunks of debris fly toward the car, and I duck as pieces slam against the back window. Silvera barks and I glance at Caz and Rowan, but they haven’t so much as flinched.
“C-Caz,” I stammer. “W—what just…”
Caz doesn’t look back as he says, “I told him not to make contact with anyone.”
“What did you do?” My words come out strained, breathless.
“I gave his transmitter a timer. He only had to give us five minutes to get away. If after five minutes he hadn’t made any contact, Tom would’ve been fine. I expected him to make contact about us being here eventually, but the fact that he did it within a minute…well, that says a lot about him. He contacted the pigs, the transmitter picked it up and…well, I assume you know the rest.”
Rowan makes a whistling sound, then utters the word, “Boom.”
“No, I don’t know the rest. How can you do that to someone?”
“I don’t carry just guns with me.”
I blink at the back of Caz’s head.
“He was a nice old man. He was harmless!”
“He wasn’t harmless. You’re just impressionable and you trust way too easily.” Caz turns his head a fraction.
“You’re ridiculous. You’re killing people for no reason!”
“No reason?” he shouts.
“Yes! He did nothing wrong! So what if he called someone, we would’ve gotten away regardless!”
“The fucking audacity,” Caz growls.
“Calm down, brother,” Rowan warns, glancing at him.
“No—she needs to fucking hear it!”
“Sure! Tell me! What is it that I need to hear? What could possibly justify you killing an old man?”
“Do you know that old man is on the outskirts of this shitty territory because he used to molest young girls—girls twice younger than you?”