Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
I was standing and marching towards the door to do I don’t know what, but I had to see for myself.
Griffin caught me around the waist and hauled me back into his chest.
“I had Wolf take Doogan home with him the moment we left yesterday, remember?” Griffin asked soothingly.
My legs went weak at the knees, and I sank into Griffin’s embrace like he was the soft place for me to land on.
“Thank God,” I breathed, eyes closing as bile started to rise up my throat.
I missed what they were talking about as I thought about all the things I would be needing to replace. My hair products. My clothes. My books.
“…they have your ex-wife hostage,” Peek finished.
My spine stiffened as I looked towards Peek to see him staring at Griffin over my shoulder.
I could feel Griffin’s arm tighten around my belly, but he didn’t react very much at all to the news.
“And Justin?” He asked carefully.
Peek shook his head. “Can’t find Justin. Didn’t know about Noreen, either, until Wolf searched through the boy’s pockets who tried to play firebug. They had a picture of her holding a newspaper that they were supposed to tack onto the tree out front.”
Griffin took a huge, deep breath, then let it all out through his nose.
“My dad’s following behind us with the piece of shit who tried to break into my mom’s place, as well as the other four my dad took out before they could do any damage,” Griffin said. “I got a little bit of information out of the guy who says he shot my kid, but other than that, just the standard yes or no answers.”
Every one of the men in the room stiffened at Griffin’s explanation.
“Says he shot your kid…” Peek said carefully.
Griffin nodded, and I turned into his arms to wrap mine around his chest, hugging him tight.
He squeezed back a little harder than usual, but didn’t say anything else to Peek’s question.
“Well…” Griffin’s father said as he came into the room. “I got an A+ in the art of interrogation during Desert Storm. I think it’s time you let me at him, my boy.”
Griffin’s eyes closed, and he took a deep breath.
“I want that fucker to suffer. I want him to know what it feels like to be missing a part of himself that is so integral that he no longer knows how to live a normal life…can you give me that?” He rumbled darkly.
Grunts followed around the room, but it was Peek who answered, not his dad.
“I can give you that,” he said simply. “But you won’t be in on it. You’ll be as far away as you can. We don’t need your emotions to play a part in this. We need a solid head with clear thinking. This isn’t over yet. We have a few of their men, but they still have the upper hand because we don’t know who they represent and what they’re trying to accomplish. Yet.”
“I think we should just burn every one of those motherfucker’s. I know someone that owns a funeral business. He has a really nice cremator.” Mig said darkly.
I think my eyebrows rose to my hairline at that comment.
Jesus, these men were bloodthirsty!
Not that I blamed them.
Griffin was their brother…and that meant that Tanner was important to them, too.
“Nobody’s gonna do anything to them. I got my boss working on his end to identify all these men. Four of them have already been identified as gun transporters on multiple gun shipments,” Griffin said, finally letting me go to walk to the table.
He opened a file folder and took out four photos.
“These four are already in the system. They only need one more charge and they’re back in jail for the rest of their lives,” Griffin continued. “The one that I wasn’t able to get charges filed against was the one that shot my kid.”
“Well, I’ve got you covered there,” Wolf said, opening his own file folder. “Mickey Ramsey, thirty-two. At the scene of your son’s shooting, three witnesses said they were able to identify a tattoo on the suspects left wrist,” he said, dropping a picture of a butterfly on the table. “This is the same picture you sent me last night of the man, as well as the identifying characteristics.”
I looked at the one I’d seen Griffin send last night, then at the picture of the butterfly that witnesses had described to the police officers and then had a sketch artist draw. It was an exact match.
“With his admission to killing your son to a room filled with people, we’ve got him locked down,” Wolf said. “Already have Rider on the charges.”
Rider, I assumed, was Wolf and Griffin’s boss…but I could be wrong.
I’d never heard the name before, but who else would be ‘on the charges?’
While they spoke, I thought about the last day and a half.
We’d been to Alabama and back in less than 18 hours.
Five armed men had tried to break into his mother’s house and kill us.
Someone had burned down my house, and had tried to burn down my business.
Tried to do the same to Griffin’s house.
Honestly, I was just plain tired.
Tired of shitty people in this world making life harder than it should be.
My phone interrupted my pity party, and I was glad.
Those thoughts could only lead me into darker thoughts, and I most certainly didn’t want to go there.
Not yet, anyway.
“Hello?” I answered my phone, making everyone in the room pause to allow me to speak.
I winced when I heard Dr. Parsons start right in.
“You were supposed to have an MRI today, but they said you didn’t show for your appointment,” Dr. Parsons said.
I closed my eyes and scrunched up my nose.
“I forgot,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Can I reschedule for tomorrow?”
“Today. They have an opening at one p.m.,” he said shortly.
I looked at my watch. “That’s thirty minutes from now.”
“I know, they had another woman scheduled, but she perished before she was able to make it to the appointment. Sad, but effective since you need it done. You can’t put these off. This is non-negotiable. We need to see if this mass has grown any, and we have to be on top of it. If we miss it even a month, and it triples in size, it’ll get invasive and we won’t be able to do a thing about it.”