Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 179(@200wpm)___ 144(@250wpm)___ 120(@300wpm)
"Madison, is that you?" he hisses into the phone. "If so, this isn't funny. Stop it right this instant and come home."
"Hey, Daddy? I don't feel like your favorite girl. Maybe you're right and I am dead." I pause. "I think I got run off the road. I can't remember. It feels like a long time ago. Do you remember, Daddy?"
He wheels around again, searching the parking lot. I can't tell if the look on his face is guilt or anger, but it's definitely something. He knows I know what he intended to do to me. Good.
"Boo!" I yell into the phone.
He jumps, practically dropping his phone.
I laugh softly, hanging up on him.
Maybe I'm not so bad at this being a ghost thing. He looks properly terrified right now.
Satisfaction thrums through me. My job here is done. I hope he spends every waking minute of the next week squirming and looking over his shoulder the same damn way I did seven years ago.
I watch him for several long minutes as he paces around, muttering to himself. He calls someone, shouting into the phone. I strain to hear what he's saying but can't make anything out. If I had to guess, I'd say he's probably talking to whoever he hired to run me off the road back then.
I take a quick photo so I have a screenshot with the time in case I need it later, and then I wait for him to stomp inside the building.
Once he's inside, I wait for a few more minutes to give myself a safety net, and then pull out, heading back toward Jack's.
I'm not even halfway there when my actual phone rings.
I glance at the screen, surprised to see Jack's number flashing across the display.
"How did you get my number?" I ask, hitting the button on the dash to answer.
"Now, why would I go and tell all my secrets?"
"Jack," I growl.
"You left it on the island this morning," he says, laughing. "You really need a passcode, baby. Any motherfucker could just pick it up, program in their info, call and harass you…"
"Oh. You mean like you're doing right now?" I smile despite myself. Jack Whitlock is a menace to society. He may also be a menace to my heart.
"This isn't harassment. This is me keeping up with the important shit, Madison."
Yeah, he's definitely going to be a menace to my heart.
"How is the move from the pool house going?"
"I've been busy."
"Doing what?"
"Haunting my father."
"Fucking hell," he growls. "You left the property?"
"Was I being held hostage?"
"What? No. But you told me the prick wants you dead. I'm not exactly thrilled about the thought of you being anywhere near him on your own."
"It's fine, Jack. He didn't even see me."
"What did you do?"
"Why do you sound so suspicious?"
"Why are you avoiding the question?"
"Who says I'm avoiding it?"
"Madison," he growls.
Dear Baby Jesus, I do not want him to make that sound while his face is buried between my legs. Promise.
"I called him from a burner phone to torture him a little," I confess. "I wanted to get his reaction."
"And did you get what you wanted?"
"Yes. No." I huff, scowling at the road ahead of me. "I don't know. Maybe. He looked spooked and then called someone as soon as we hung up. I think it was whoever he hired to try to kill me. I took a timestamped photo."
"Smart girl. We'll be able to use it to connect the call with his phone records."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," I mumble, pulling up along the curb where I've been parking my car. Eventually, I'll have to go to Sheriff Armstrong and tell him everything. When I do, I want as much evidence as I can get my hands on. What I've collected over the last seven years is enough to bury my father, but none of it has anything to do with what he tried to do to me. It's all financial crimes and shady dealings at my company, things I'm sure he never thought anyone would ever find out about. He really should have looked for me, though. Leaving me out there on my own was just asking for trouble. And I'm more than happy to deliver. "I'd really like to bring them both down so I can sleep at night if I'm going to be sticking around."
"You're sticking around, huh?"
"Who said that? You're hearing things."
Jack's deep laugh rumbles through the car. "Get your gorgeous ass back to the pool house and pack your shit before I come home and pack it for you, Madison. I mean it."
"You have companies to run."
"My companies run themselves. I spend my time terrorizing my employees and making people a shit ton of money because I'm bored out of my mind. Believe me, if I come home to pack your shit, these assholes will probably send you a fruit basket."