Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Kingman nodded, and two of his guys took off.
“And tell Jones to get his ass back here when he’s done bagging those bodies,” Kingman called out.
Shane needed to thin the herd. Maybe send some guys for Henry to handle. He wondered if Jones had already been dealt with.
Shane cursed under his breath.
“What?” The girl who’d come along was the same one who’d questioned him at The Trading Post the night after they’d made things official with Brooke. If he’d caught sight of her, he would have known something was wrong, but now she stood by Kingman. She was at least forty years the man’s junior, but she slid an arm possessively through his. “I think he remembered something.”
Denial might help him. “Nah, it’s fine. I’m sure it’s in the foreman’s house.” He gave her a once-over. “You know he’ll toss you into that ravine when he’s done with you, too, right?”
Her eyes rolled. “He ain’t going to be done with me. I’m the one who gives him what he needs. Ain’t that right, Kale?”
“Shut up.” Kingman stepped away from her. “Where else could it be? I’m not joking, Shane. I want that sketchbook. I can kill you slow or we can do this easy.”
But they wouldn’t kill him until they had what they needed. Nope. They needed him alive, and he could send them off on wild-goose chases because Bay took that sketchbook with him almost everywhere.
Shane let his expression go stubborn. He wasn’t worried about getting hurt. He could handle it, but he needed to keep them thinking he wasn’t a problem. They hadn’t even tied him up. They thought the threat of guns would keep him in line.
Kingman slapped him again.
Shane spat blood and decided it was time to give him another little something. “Fine. We were here last night for dinner, but Bay wanted to work in quiet. He might have left it in the basement. But probably not. I can’t remember. He leaves the damn thing lying around. He’s always losing it.”
He didn’t. He kept that fucker close most of the time.
“Ned, go check,” Kingman ordered.
He hoped he was helping Henry and not hurting him, but it seemed safer for Henry to deal with them on a one-by-one basis.
He knew if he could get the numbers down in here, he might be able to make a move. He wasn’t ex-military like some of these guys, but he’d had plenty of self-defense training. Enough to know that sometimes surprise beat out training. And that there was no such thing as a fair fight. If he had the chance, he would stab these fuckers in the back and never think twice about it.
But he was still at five in the kitchen. He wouldn’t discount the young woman since it appeared she was the one who shot Noah. Killed Noah. If Henry had done what he thought he’d done, then two were already dead. Kingman sent three more out, two to the foreman’s house and one to the basement.
There was the sound of banging coming from the west end of the house.
Kingman frowned. “Go check on Ned, Billy. If that asshole fell down the stairs, I’ll kill him myself.”
Billy hesitated but went anyway.
Four. It was Kingman and the woman and Dennis and Andy.
He just needed to wait for the right moment.
Well, he also needed a weapon of some kind, but he could try.
Brooke. He had to think about Brooke and seeing her again.
“I don’t like this. Something feels wrong.” Kingman proved he had some instincts.
“Nothing’s wrong. I told you. I checked and James Glen is with his wife and they’re all the way in Alamosa,” the woman explained. “And from what I overheard on the phone, McNamara’s girl got hurt on the playground and he and the other one took off running. You’ve got hours.”
Kingman’s eyes narrowed on her. “And the hands who are out in the field? What do I do when they show up? You know they don’t work twenty-four seven. They do come in every now and then.”
She sighed and shrugged. “Kill them.”
They started arguing about how every extra body was another problem, but Shane didn’t care. He was fairly close to the butcher block of knives Beth kept, though he probably shouldn’t say they were Beth’s. Both Bo and Trev cooked meals for their family. They spread out the work so it wasn’t piled on Beth.
Like he and Bay wanted to do with Brooke. They’d learned from their parents. The workload was a thing to manage, not to dump on the human with female genitalia. He and Bay had talked about setting up a schedule. Laundry and cleaning and cooking. They would all participate.
He prayed he still had a chance.
Or that Bay and Brooke could carry on without him. Bay would find his way. He leaned on Shane as much as Shane leaned on him, but his brother was strong. He would honor Shane by taking care of the woman they loved.