Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Anyone in law enforcement knew the struggle. ACAB—All Cops Are Bastards—was something we heard constantly, and it pissed me off more than I could put into words. Because while there were plenty of bastards wearing badges, there were also men and women who took the responsibility seriously. Who wore that badge with honor. I’d wring the neck of any cop who abused their power.
The Palmerstown Police Department had two officers currently under close surveillance. They weren’t allowed to take callouts alone, and they weren’t partnered with each other anymore. A dozen measures had been put in place while our sheriff, Judd Bailey, gathered enough evidence to nail them to the wall. Firing them now would only allow them to cover their tracks, and we couldn’t afford that.
But that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. The thought of them made my fists itch. The abuse of power, the unchecked corruption—it made me sick. A badge wasn’t a free pass to do whatever the hell you wanted. And the higher-ups who turned a blind eye were just as bad as the ones getting their hands dirty.
If I ever got five minutes alone with either of them…
“Yo!”
The call snapped me out of my thoughts, and I turned to see Mark Montgomery strolling up the porch steps, a knowing smirk on his face.
“Looking mighty serious over there,” he drawled, leaning against the railing. “Did she find out already?”
I snorted, flipping him off as I took another drink. “Don’t think so. But if you hear screaming and cursing later, that’s probably it.”
Mark let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’d be more concerned if everything stayed peaceful and calm.”
I raised a brow. “How come?”
“Means she decided to smother you in your sleep.”
He said it so casually, like it was a genuine possibility, and hell, maybe it was.
I narrowed my eyes. “Why hadn’t I thought of that?”
Mark shrugged, his grin widening. “Probably because you’re still high off the thrill of playing Secret Neighbor. Give it a few hours. The reality check’s coming.”
He wasn’t wrong. But for now, I lifted my beer and wiggled it in his direction. “Want one?”
“Water, if you’ve got it, please. I have to have dinner with the Townsends in an hour and trust me, it’s always better to be sober for that.”
With a snort, I pushed up from my seat and motioned for Mark to follow me into the kitchen.
“I’m disappointed the previous owners didn’t leave you any mirrors,” he snickered as we walked through the living room, referencing the insane number of mirrors on his house’s walls. “You don’t know what y—”
His sentence cut off with an audible snap of his teeth, and the hair on the back of my neck prickled.
I stopped dead, my stomach twisting. That was never a good sign. “Please don’t let it be snakes,” I muttered, half-praying to whatever deity handled these things. I fucking hated snakes. One of my buddies had bought a house once, only to discover two of the slithery bastards had been living rent-free inside his air vents. Since then, I’d made it a personal rule to give vents a wide berth.
Judging by the look of sheer horror on Mark’s face, his gaze locked on the pile of boxes next to the air vent in my living room, I suddenly regretted not getting the place checked before moving in.
My throat went dry. If there was a snake in my house, I was grabbing a bag and checking into a hotel until a professional searched every last inch of my home. No vent, mattress, or dark corner would be left unchecked. Hell, I’d make them burn the place down if necessary.
Mark, still frozen, whispered, “Please tell me you didn’t breed a dog as a science experiment.”
That was not what I expected him to say. My brows knitted as I turned, making sure my movements were slow and controlled in case whatever it was had launching abilities. God forbid I get taken out by some nightmare hybrid creature with a built-in slingshot.
“What kind is it?” I mumbled, bracing myself.
“I have no idea,” Mark breathed, his eyes still locked on the same spot. I was grateful he hadn’t blinked yet—at least one of us would see death coming.
“Rattler? Mamba? King Cobra?”
“Snakes on a Plane is a comedy if that’s a snake.”
A violent shudder wracked through me. Just hearing the name of that cursed movie sent a chill down my spine. Planes were already bad enough, but then some asshole had to go and make that viral clip where a snake fell out of an overhead compartment mid-flight. Seven years later, I still double-checked the bag hold every time I boarded.
Slowly, carefully, I turned my head, bracing myself for venomous fangs, beady reptilian eyes, or something equally horrifying, only to be met with an entirely different sight.