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)
"At least, not yet."
"Why the fuck not?"
"Because we're holding a press conference at the end of the week to tell the world she's still alive. And we want her father there when it happens. She has a few things to get off her chest before you lock him up and throw away the key."
"Like what?" Dillon growls, his eyes narrowed on her.
"I just think the world should know why he's in such a rush to have me declared dead. That's all," she says, shrugging innocently. "And since he intended to ambush me with my murder, I don't see why I shouldn't ambush him with the fact that I heard everything."
"Was this your idea?" He glares at me.
"Why do you think every bad idea is automatically my idea?"
"Because I know you." He sighs. "At least you admit it's a bad idea."
"Oh, it's a fucking terrible idea. It'll be a shitshow, for sure. And that's exactly why it needs to happen. He can't squirm his way out of it in front of the press. He won't admit to a damn thing. But he won't be able to deny that she's alive and well and clearly of sound mind. There will be no snatching her company from her or trying to have her declared dead or whatever other bullshit he might attempt. He'll realize he lost in the most public way possible." I grin. "You can lock him up and throw away the key afterward."
He snorts, shaking his head. "Just like that, huh?"
"Not exactly. We need you to figure out who he tried to hire to kill her so you can lock his ass up, too. Can you run the phone records?"
"From seven years ago? Hell no. I'm a cop. Not a wizard."
"How about from three days ago? Madison was…" I barely avoid using the word stalking. "Handling business. Once she was finished, he immediately called someone else. There was shouting. It was ugly. She took a photo to timestamp it."
She pulls her phone out, scrolling to the photo in question before passing it to Dillon. He glances at it, then at her, then at me, then back at the phone. "Yeah, I can run this," he mutters, handing the phone back to her. When she grabs it, he doesn't immediately let it go. "No more stalking him, Madison."
"I wasn't stalking him," she protests. "I was haunting him."
"Right." His lips twitch. "Well, don't do that shit either. If he sees you, he may try to finish what he started. You haven't kept yourself safe all this time just to unravel it now because you're pissed." He holds her gaze. "You have every right to be mad as hell but be smart about it. Revenge won't do you a damn bit of good if he kills you, sweetheart."
She shifts from foot to foot before reluctantly nodding. "Understood."
He releases his grip on the phone, allowing her to pull it back to her chest. His eyes come to me. "You have anyone watching the prick?"
"Asa Steele."
"Good," he grunts. "I'll run his phone records, see what else I can dig up. What time is the press conference?"
"Noon at my office on Friday. His is on Saturday."
"I'll be out front after yours ends. Hopefully with a warrant and handcuffs." He glances at Madison again. "I need everything you've got on him."
Madison nods before scurrying off to grab it.
"How's she doing?"
"She's a fucking warrior."
"How are you doing?"
"Fine."
"Don't bullshit me, motherfucker," Dillon growls. "We both know you looked for her after she disappeared. And we both know why you made the donation to her fund."
"It wasn't like that, Dillon."
"Maybe not," he says softly. "But had she not disappeared, we both know it would have been sooner or later. So I'm asking…how are you doing?"
"I want to fucking kill him," I growl, my hands clenched into fists. "Is that what you want to hear? Because it's the truth. She lived in her goddamn car for almost a year, doing shit she shouldn't have had to do just to survive. And all the while, that prick was here, living it up on her company's dime."
"Good. Hold onto that when you meet him today. Remember why the fuck you're doing what you're doing. And no matter how badly you want to do it, don't go for his throat," Dillon says. "That isn't what she needs from you. She needs to do this her way. So you're going to swallow all of that shit, and you're going to help her do it her way. Once he's in cuffs, you can have two minutes with him to handle it your way."
"He might not survive."
"He will. You'll make sure he does because she needs to see him in prison more than she needs to see you choking the life out of him."
"Goddammit. It really pisses me off when you're right."