Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68735 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
The grin once again lit my face. “The kind that you tell me what you want, and I stop and get it, because I know that you’re a picky little shit.”
She sighed. “I’ve gotten better.”
“By better, you mean that you will now eat onions?” I teased.
She gagged. “No!”
“Oh, maybe pickles then?” I kept going.
There was a long, silent pause before she said, “Only sadists like pickles.”
I huffed out a laugh as I said, “Sure, baby. Now, tell me what you want, or I’ll just assume that it’s pizza again.”
“If you go to Canes, I want chicken fingers and french fries. No gross slaw. And a sweet tea. If you go to the Mexican place around the corner, I want cheese enchiladas with queso on top. Rice and beans. Hold the carrots.” She continued to name off the places that she would eat, ending with, “Or, if you go Chinese, I want sweet and sour chicken. White rice.”
I was smiling huge by the time I hung up with her.
That smile died off my face when I pulled up to Shasha’s place off the lake, and was allowed in immediately.
His wife met me at the door with a kid on her hip before saying, “Are you the reason my husband’s throwing a fit?”
“Not me specifically,” I admitted. “But I’m the reason he found out.”
She jerked her head toward her husband’s office, which was wide open with Apollo and Dima standing inside of it.
“’Bout time you got here,” Shasha growled. “I want to know what we’re going to do with this douchebag.”
“We’re not doing anything,” Dima interjected. “I’m doing something.”
“Actually, none of y’all are doing anything, because that guy’s locked up tighter than a virgin’s legs whose daddy is a preacher,” Apollo said. “Now, I have connections, and I’m going to use them. It’s y’all’s job to get the pickup when I get him delivered to you.”
“When?” I asked.
“Tonight,” he said. “After one, preferably. I have a few things I’m working on, and I want to make sure that this won’t blow back on me.”
I growled. “And if we take him out of the picture? Will they look toward you?”
“No,” he answered. “Because, officially, I’m nowhere near this state. I’m actually in DC right now voting on a bill that covers GLP1 medications.”
I shook my head. “And how, exactly, are you planning on getting back there in time to vote on something like that?”
“You let me worry about that,” he said. “I got connections, and skills.”
I sighed as I watched him leave without a word.
When I looked back at Shasha, it was to see his eyes intense on me. “How about you let me worry about this?”
I was already shaking my head. “You don’t know what he did.”
Shasha sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. “Enlighten me.”
I did, telling him everything.
By the time I was done, Dima said, “Neither one of you get to worry about this one. I will. And I’ll make it hurt.”
I looked at him before shaking my head. “I’m going to talk to Creole. I’ll let her decide.”
“That’s her right,” Dima agreed. “But for what it’s worth, you are too angry to make it last long enough to really hammer the point home. I’m fully in control, and I can make him suffer for days, weeks, months if I want to.”
The thought did have a certain appeal…
“I’ll get back to you tonight.”
“I want to go,” she said, eyes blazing. “I want to go, and I want to do it tonight.”
I was already shaking my head. “I gave your dad the good news, too. Apparently, we’re going to have a full car.”
I got the message an hour ago from Apollo.
Dima had told me that he was doing the pickup.
And now I was trying to talk Creole out of going.
It wasn’t that I didn’t’ think she could handle it.
I knew she could.
I just didn’t want her to dredge anything up and make it worse for herself.
But, like always, I’d completely miscalculated.
My girl may be a sweet little thing to me, but she was a vicious little thing who deserved justice.
If she wanted to see this through, who was I to tell her that she couldn’t?
“Fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”
When we got to Creole’s dad’s place, he was waiting out by the curb.
He smiled at his baby girl behind him as he got in and said, “This is like the best day ever!”
Creole smiled sadly. “Did you bring the picture I asked you to?”
“I did,” he said. “What did you want it for?”
“You’ll see,” she said.
When we walked into the safe house in the woods two hours outside of town, it was to find Dima setting up shop in the front room, with Goodwin tied to a chair over a thick sheet of plastic.
He was staring on with horror.
That horror turned to outright terror when he saw me walk through the door.