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)
"McDougal," she whispers.
I step up beside her, sliding my arm around her waist. "We're going to bring the fucker down, baby."
"I know, I'm just…" She shakes her head. "I don't know why I'm surprised, really. I guess I just liked him more than most of my father's friends. He was always nice to me."
"Well, from what I've been able to put together, it looks like he may owe your father a considerable amount of money," Dillon says. "Your father bailed him out of some financial trouble some years back."
"His company was struggling," Madison mumbles, her expression twisting as if she's remembering something from a long time ago.
"Yeah." Dillon jerks his chin in a nod. "Gerald cut him a check to bail him out. It would have been before…"
"Before my mom died," she whispers, glancing up at Dillon. "I remember…" She pauses, exhaling a breath. "I remember them arguing about it. I can't remember the details, but I don't think she knew what my father was going to do until he already cut the check. It was a lot of money." She looks at Dillon as if seeking confirmation.
"It definitely wasn't pocket change."
"She wasn't happy about it, but he said it was a good investment. Then she got sicker and it just kind of ended there." Madison shakes her head. "I guess we know why he thought it was such a good investment now, huh?"
I press my lips to her temple. "Just a few more days, baby," I murmur against her skin.
"You should talk to Kenneth," she says to Dillon. "If he's the one…well, I doubt it was his idea. My father probably used that loan to get him on board, threatened to take his company or something. He may talk to you."
"Or he'll run to your father," Dillon says.
"Speaking of which…"
Dillon whips his head toward me, his eyes narrowed. "What now?"
"She wants to see her father before the press conference."
"Why?"
"She isn't done haunting him," I mutter dryly.
She elbows me in the ribs. "That is not what I said, Jack."
"Same difference, baby."
Dillon glances between us. "That might not be a bad idea."
This time, I'm the one scowling at him all suspicious-like. "It's a fucking terrible idea."
"Think about it," he says. "If she shows up at his place, it'll spook him. She's already laid the groundwork. Why not use it to try to nab a confession?"
"Uh, because he wants to fucking kill her?" I snarl, gripping onto her like she might slip through my fingers. At this point, she fucking might. Jesus Christ. They're both insane. The last place she needs to be is alone with that prick.
"So she shows up in his office instead, surrounded by people," Dillon says. "With the two of us waiting right outside the door. He won't have a chance to get his hands on her. But she'll have a chance to say what she wants to say to him. If we're lucky, we hear enough to incriminate him. Then you hold your press conference, tell the world she's alive and you're married. And by the way, her father is in jail for plotting to murder her."
"It's not a bad idea," Madison whispers, peeking over at me.
"Uh, it's a fucking terrible idea," I disagree. Her anywhere near that bastard is the worst goddamn idea since we decided to elect Dillon as sheriff again. The man is a menace. And we just keep giving him a badge and a gun. What is wrong with us?
"Please, Jack," she pleads quietly. "I'm ready for this to be over so we can move on."
Goddamn son of a bitch motherfucker.
We haven't even been married for twenty-four hours, and I already can't tell her no. I'm in serious trouble over here.
"Fine," I growl, giving in gracefully. Gracelessly. Whatever. I give in because what the fuck else am I supposed to do? If she needs this, I'm not going to be the thing standing in her way. I support her. Always.
But I turn a dark scowl on Dillon. "If he touches her, I'm killing him. And then I'm killing you. And I might do other shady shit too. Undecided."
"If he touches her, I'll let you use my gun, how about that?" Dillon says, completely serious.
Fine. Maybe he isn't a terrible sheriff and electing him again wasn't an awful idea.
"Come here," I order Madison as soon as I slam the door closed behind Dillon an hour later. Our plans are made, we know what the fuck we're going to do. First thing in the morning, Madison will be waiting in his office.
Which means I have twenty-four hours before I have to let her walk in there and face that prick.
I fully intend to spend every minute of the next twenty-four hours inside her. When we leave here in the morning, she'll be taking every piece of my heart with her. And she'll go knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that she'll be coming home to me.