Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I didn’t mean to,” Creed grumbled, clearly offended.
“You, Romeo. Weaver.” Denver shook his head. “Just bring ’em with you next time. Solve all of this bullshit.”
“We had our reasons,” Creed grumbled.
I felt like I really needed to understand everything that was going on, but now definitely wasn’t the time.
Weaver’s eyes caught mine and he looked lost.
“Shhh,” he breathed. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“I’m so, so, so s-sorry.” She hiccuped between sobs. “I hate myself. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“It’s not,” she whispered, but it was loud enough that most of us could hear it. “He’s never going to let us live. Especially you.”
There was a moment of stilled silence and then, “Who?”
“Gibbons.”
“He’s in prison, baby sister.” Weaver tried to soothe her. “He can’t reach you.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, voice filled with fear. “He hasn’t left me alone a single day in twelve years.”
Black arrived last with a prescription bottle of something that they forced Pippa to take.
By the time she’d cried herself to sleep, everyone was sitting on the couch looking horrified.
Why?
Because Pippa had let it all hang out.
Sonny Gibbons might’ve been in prison for drug trafficking, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have one hell of a reach. He also had enough money to blow, and he’d spent it on making Pippa’s life miserable.
At first, Pippa had explained, she truly had been mad at Weaver. But eventually, once the shock wore off, she realized that it was an impossible situation. The only issue was, by that point in time, Gibbons had sunk his claws into Pippa and hadn’t let go.
Forcing her to make impossible decisions that then put her brother in prison. After he’d been placed in prison, Pippa had tried to find a way to get free of Gibbons’ claws, maybe get her brother out, but her enemy had only become more controlling. Having in turn taken to threatening Boston’s life and their parents’.
Pippa had done her level best to make it seem like she didn’t care about Weaver—Winston—Boston, or her parents. She’d alienated herself to the point that no one wanted anything to do with her.
And it’d worked—kind of.
But when Gibbons’ sentence had started to come to an end, he’d started to toy with Pippa more. And with that came the threats to her family if she didn’t cooperate. Photos of them at their various activities. Frequent updates on her family’s day-to-day life that she’d decided that she needed to figure out a way out of this.
So, she’d cooperated with Gibbons while in turn trying to find a solution. And by cooperating, he meant coming to see him. To make life plans where she would be there with him the moment he got out.
When she’d refused, he’d upped his game.
Every single job she’d tried to get, he’d had her fired from. Every apartment she’d tried to rent, he’d had her kicked out of.
In the end, she’d started to live out of hotels throughout the city and state, practically draining her savings and trust fund as she did.
Her father had finally cut her off, and she’d lost it.
She’d been paying a private investigator to help her, and when her funds dried up, so did her way to fix it.
When Boston had gone missing, she’d freaked.
But, her overprotectiveness had proven warranted, and the small tracker she’d placed in the bottom of all of Boston’s shoes had become useful.
She’d traced Boston here.
To her brother.
And to her salvation.
Twenty-Two
I see what the problem is here. I’m speaking in English, and you’re listening in Dumbass.
—Weaver’s secret thoughts
Weaver
I listened, hearing a constant pound in my chest, as my sister described her years of hell.
When she was through, her tears finally dried up, face drawn, I couldn’t stop myself from picking her up and curling her into my arms.
“I’m so sorry, Winnie. I’m so sorry. I tried so hard, and I couldn’t see a way out.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?” I asked.
“I tried,” she admitted. “More than once. I went to the local police. And when they couldn’t help me—more like refused to help me—I went to the state police. Then when they said it was outside of their jurisdiction, I went to the FBI. They refused to help. That’s when I started paying the private investigator.”
“I got everything that’s listed in the PI’s notes,” Apollo said into the ensuing silence. “And let’s just say, for the amount of money you paid him over the years, he should have way more than this. It’s like he’s only doing this as a side quest when he’s not busy doing something else.”
“I’ve often thought that myself,” she admitted. “But he’s the first one that would actually work with me. All the others I went to said no. Sonny Gibbons’ reach is just too far.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?” I asked.