Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Then who?” I ask, too impatient to sort through the fragments of memories slowly filtering through my head.
A protective flare darts through his eyes, and when I notice it’s tinged with jealousy, the truth lands in my lap.
“Thompson.”
Now it isn’t solely Grayson’s jaw that’s tight. His hand not clutched by my son’s tiny fingers is firmly balled.
“Was he one of them?” I don’t need to clarify my question. The anger billowing from my ears speaks for me. He was driving an Audi and had multiple bank accounts in the high six-figure range. That screams corruption.
Grayson jerks up his chin, tripling my fury. However, it has nothing on the anger that envelops me when he says, “To get back at you for losing him the supposed perks that come with our positions, he told a judge that Samuel was his informant”—I almost giggle when he gags while air quoting his last word—“and that he was working an active case when we nabbed him. That’s how he dodged prosecution so easily.”
“That bitch.”
“I am reasonably sure that’s what his roommate at Richard J. Donovan Correctional Facility called him when Alex got him settled in his cell earlier this week.”
I shouldn’t smile. It just can’t be helped. I’m all about justice being served to those deserving of its wrath. It’s as essential to me as being the voice of the victims.
Although I’d love to stay in the bubble of bliss forever, I can’t forget my obligations. “Kendall?”
Sorrow fills Grayson’s eyes before he slowly shakes his head. “This syndicate’s business plan was fetal abduction, not baby-making. Investigators recovered thirty-eight women from unmarked graves, and their families identified and claimed their remains. Kendall wasn’t one of them.” He inches closer, ridding my room of its horrid sanitary smell. “I know I should apologize, freckles, but I won’t. I’m not sorry we didn’t find your sister, because those victims were already dead. We know Kendall isn’t. We know it from years of experience, and we know it in here…” Tears flood my eyes when he taps his chest before doing the same to mine. “So I won’t apologize. I will just promise that we will bring her home. Together.”
While pretending tears aren’t close to wetting my cheeks, I cover his hand with mine, holding it hostage to my chest before wordlessly thanking him for everything he’s done. This crew wasn’t the syndicate that has Kendall, but he gave thirty-eight families closure. He freed them from a pain that’s sometimes worse than grief. They don’t have to wonder anymore. Now that they have answers, they can start to move forward.
Crew and I can’t do that yet. We’re still stuck in this debilitating spiral of not knowing. We will find answers. I know we will. I just need to keep karma’s balance sheet even, and I know the perfect way to do that.
“Cameron called the driver during my attack. That’s why we were still in the alleyway instead of on the freeway.” I loathe defending this woman at all, especially to Grayson, but morals don’t allow a smidge of discrepancy. “She tried to talk him out of taking me. She said that she believed you when you said you loved me, and that it would only make matters worse for them since you wouldn’t stop until you found me. She said you’re always super protective of your little projects.” I take a breather before continuing. “He ignored her warning.” Pride swells in my chest, squashing some of the unease sitting there. “That was the second time he underestimated someone solely because of their gender.”
My response to his denial of Cameron’s suggestion occurred so fast that even with the memory fully formed in my head, it is still a blur. I was barely conscious after being dragged down the alleyway by my hair, the driver too furious about the loss of two members of his crew to act nonchalantly. He threw his fist into my stomach, folding me in two, before he told the elderly lady to find her own way out of the mess she had apparently created.
When he kicked me, I groaned, and her cries for him to return and free her were lost.
“How the fuck didn’t you go down after that hit?” He sneered as he shoved me into the SUV’s back seat, which was parked in a loading zone. “Not only did you get back up, but you also killed Samuel before taking off after my mother, who ran like a coward.”
His disrespect for his mother immediately made me defensive. If a man doesn’t respect his mother, he doesn’t respect anyone. I was as good as dead.
I fended off a man pointing a gun at me by kicking him in the face. The cardboard lining a homeless camp didn’t cushion my fall, but it hardened my knuckles in preparation for a fight.