Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“It was consensual,” Wes blurts out. “She consented. Right, Brylee?”
Brylee nods, fear in her eyes. She thinks she’s in trouble.
“How old are you, Brylee?” I bark out, my eyes trained on Wes, who stands there naked and dick wet.
“Almost fifteen. But I wanted it,” she assures me. “Don’t get Mr. Ewing in trouble.”
Mr. Ewing.
Wes starts to grab his sweats up, but I shake my head.
“Don’t. I want you to walk the fuck back and sit on the floor in the corner,” I command. “Do it or you’ll fucking regret it.” I toss the pictures into the room. They flutter all over the bed and floor. “Get dressed, Brylee, and then go sit with Terrence until the cops get here.”
Terrence leaves my side and soon I can hear his voice as he speaks to someone over the phone. Wes buries his face in his hands as Brylee scrambles to dress. My camera is zoomed in on Wes.
“Admit you’re a sick, perverted fuck,” I growl. “Admit it.”
Wes scowls at me. The fact he still bears Charlotte’s defensive wounds makes me want to rip his eyeballs out.
“Admit it. You’re fucking busted, so you may as well admit it. I know your computer is filled with sick shit. I have video of you whacking off to little girls. You’ve been caught in the fucking act, man.”
“You’re not the police,” Wes snaps. “None of this will be admissible in court. You can’t just barge in like a fucking vigilante.”
“I did. They can’t ignore this shit. You’re a predator.”
“Let me get dressed, man.”
“Admit it and then you can have your clothes.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fine. Sit there with your tiny-ass dick and wait for the cops. I don’t care.”
“Fine,” he roars, throwing his hand up in the air. “I like Brylee. We’re seeing each other. I didn’t fucking rape her.”
“No, but you’ve tried to rape others.” I pin him with a hateful look. “Where’d you get those scratches?”
“None of your business.”
“It is my business, asshole, because my fucking girl gave them to you when you tried to force yourself on her.”
“So it’s okay for you to fuck your student, but not me.”
“She’s a goddamn adult. How old is Brylee again? That’s right. She just fucking hit puberty. You sicken me, little bitch.”
Wes rages and curses me out for the first few minutes. Eventually, he starts begging. Then crying. He’s a mess by the time Captain Fitzgerald and a few other men arrive.
“They broke in and started threatening me,” Wes cries out the moment Captain Fitzgerald steps into the room. “He wouldn’t even let me get dressed!”
I keep my phone recording because I don’t trust this guy. I’ll blast this shit all over the fucking world if I have to. This may not be admissible in court as evidence, but I can sure as hell ruin his life over it.
“What’s going on?” Fitzgerald asks, his voice calm.
“Wes over there likes little girls,” I explain. “He’s hurt two of my friends. There is sick shit on his computer and take a look at all those pictures.”
Wes starts to cry again. “Please…”
Fitzgerald picks up Wes’s sweats and tosses them at him. “Put these on, Ewing.” Then, he squats to look at the pictures, growing quiet.
“What’s going on here?” Michael Cunningham grinds out from behind me. “These two broke in and threatened Mr. Ewing? I’ve been itching for a reason to haul in Hutton. Looks like it’s my lucky day.”
I’m about to tell him to get fucked when Fitzgerald snaps his head up, a fiery glare in his eyes. “Enough.”
Michael takes a threatening step toward me. “This vigilante justice doesn’t fly, Captain, and you know it.”
“In this case, it’s warranted,” Fitzgerald barks out, thrusting a picture at Michael.
Michael shrugs. “Doesn’t mean Hutton’s not in the wrong too. I’m going to arrest—”
“You’re not going to do anything,” Fitzgerald snaps. “You’re already on thin ice, Cunningham. Remember your place.” He points at Wes. “Read him his rights. Cuff him.”
Michael’s face turns purple, but he obeys his commanding officer. Fitzgerald takes another hard look at the picture. I expect it to be one of the naked ones. It’s not, though. It’s Little Hoodlum. It’s one of the milder photos. But she’s not in a classroom. She’s in a bookstore or something, reading an iPad. The picture is creepy and weird. It’s obvious she doesn’t know he took it.
“Roux Hirsch has been through hell as it is,” Fitzgerald grumbles. “I didn’t realize she might have been going through more.”
“She’s Martinez now,” I murmur, meeting his glare with a hard one of my own. “And my boy will die protecting her.” My gaze flits over to the predator. “Can you do whatever you can to make sure that doesn’t happen?”
Fitzgerald nods. “I like Martinez. He’s done a lot for cleaning up this town and taking care of those two. This will be handled appropriately. You have my word.”