Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
As soon as I round the corner I find Marney sitting at the table with his coffee and a smoldering cigarette. He’s staring down at a newspaper. His eyes slowly raise to mine and he shakes his head. “Your name’s in the paper. Front page. National News.”
I toss my head back and rub my hands down my face. “Fuck!” I shout.
“Well, now, they got here that you're dead. Blown to smithereens in your house, but shew at that number of murders they’re trying to pin a dead man for.” He turns the paper around and taps his finger over the black print.
I drag the chair out and plop down. Jude Pearson, an honor graduate of the University of Alabama turned illegal bookmaker and career criminal is connected with more than thirty-five murders. A string of killings throughout the Tennessee Valley occurring several months ago have evidence linking the late Pearson to at least three of the murders. Investigations are underway. And there, next to the article, is my college graduation picture.
Marney slides a chipped coffee cup in my direction. “My concern is, what exactly is under investigation?” I watch as he twist the top from a bottle of whiskey and pours a generous amount into my cup. “You talked to David lately?” he arches a brow.
I can feel my pulse in the back of my throat. I grab the phone from the table and dial David’s number. I hear it connect, but it doesn’t ring. The number you are trying to reach is out of service or has been temporarily disconnected.
My fingers clench around the phone. “Motherfucker,” I growl.
Marney settles back in the chair and stares silently at me, his lips straight across his face. “Think time’s about up here, son. You wait too much longer and you won’t ever get to that house on the beach. You need to think of what’s best for her... for your family now. Revenge ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Your father’d tell you that.”
Part of me knows he’s right. I know we should hightail it the fuck out of here and never fucking come back. But then there’s Tor. She is still so angry, so mad for bloodshed; if I told her we were leaving she’d stay right here and try to handle Joe herself. Besides, I have to kill Joe because if I don’t, I’ll never really feel safe. I don’t only have Tor to protect now; I have a child. I feel sick. What the hell do I do here?
“I don’t have a good feeling about this Jude.” Marney shakes his head. “Not one good feeling.”
I'm restless and unable to sleep. Jude's steady breaths sound behind me, his chest rising and falling against my back as one strong arm wraps around me, pinning me to his big body. I absently trace the ink work that winds over his muscles and stops at his wrist. I feel him stir, his lips pressing against the back of my head as he pulls me even tighter against him.
One second I'm lying in Jude's arms, the next, an enormous bang shakes the entire house. A brief orange flash illuminates the room before it's blocked out by Jude's body covering mine. He places his hand on top of my head, pressing me into the mattress, his heavy breaths drowned out by a second loud explosion.
Marney's shouting from the bottom of the steps. Jude sits up, his bare chest heaving as he reaches for a gun and places it in my hand. He cups my cheek, forcing me to look at him.
"You stay here. Anyone comes through that door, you shoot first and ask fucking questions later."
I nod, and he kisses my forehead quickly before storming out of the room like he's about to bring on the apocalypse itself.
I slide off the mattress and press my back to the wall, placing the bed between me and the door to shelter me from anyone who might walk into the room. This is Joe, I know it is. He found us, and if he found us, then there's every possibility that he's come for me. My hands shake as I train my gun on the door. I listen intently for footsteps. My heart is beating so hard; my entire body vibrates with each heavy thump.
After what feels like an eternity, I hear footsteps down the hall and my finger twitches on the trigger. There's a gentle knock on the door.
"Tor, it's me."
I release the breath I'm holding, and lower the gun as the door cracks open and Jude steps inside. He notices my position on the floor and cocks an eyebrow at me, a small smirk on his face.
"Car bomb," he says. Outwardly he seems calm, but there's a category five hurricane ripping across his irises.
I stand up, clicking the safety to the gun and placing it on the bedside table. "He knows where we are," I whisper.