Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
May shakes her head, her eyes telling me we've got this. I want to scream that her sunshine and her hope won't get us out of this. Not this time.
The car exits the freeway, heading for the industrial edge of town, where our father kept his warehouses. He was a good man, the kind who called me precious and meant it, even if the business that paid for our tower was never the clean kind.
"So here's the deal." Victor waves the paperwork at us. "You make good on your father's promise. You sign over your shares of Daddy's stocks, both of you. Not the cash, I'm not greedy. You'll still be rich. A few clicks and we're done, and you can hand the rest to those two clowns for all I care." His voice drops. "You sign either way. The only choice is how hard you make it. Because if you don't?" He jabs a finger at May. "Thomas here has a talent for hurting people in ways you can't imagine."
15
Allister
Decker slams on the brakes as he swings into the estate turnaround where I'm waiting. My head is pounding. My phone is in my hand, and I'm praying for it to buzz with a text saying everything's fine. That the girls are off somewhere eating cupcakes, and there's some dumb, harmless reason for the terror that's been clawing me since I got here.
But deep down, I know it's not true.
"The Bentley's gone. Henrietta said she doesn't know where they went."
"Fuck. I've tried May's phone eight times. Fuck it, I'm not waiting. We're tracking their butts. I've got that tracker in her phone, so even if it's off, it still pings. Let me get on it."
Decker yanks his phone out and starts punching the screen like he's trying to drive his fingers straight through it.
"Let's go." Decker's already got the Suburban in drive as I hop in the passenger seat. "They're on I-69, heading south."
I check the tracker as Decker shoots in and out of the cars around us. Traffic is light, thank Christ, and we hit the exit fast, headed for the industrial center. They can't be in a hurry. We're gaining on them.
"They're turning on Milwaukee." I snap, watching the little blue dot blink across the map.
"Fuck." Decker pounds the steering wheel. We both know if they get the girls into one of those abandoned warehouses, this goes bad fast.
"We're losing the tracking, Deck. Hurry. It's not blinking."
"Fucking service down here sucks." He roars, punching the gas and swerving around a work truck. Tires squeal as he takes the turn onto Milwaukee and stamps the gas again.
"Fuck! There!" My heart slams against my ribs as I catch red taillights swinging into a half derelict warehouse. "Turn left, go around back!"
The Bentley's barely moving, and Decker's on it. He swings into the alley behind it, takes another turn, and we're on top of them. The Suburban screeches, and Decker rams its massive front into the Bentley's passenger side. We're both out the doors before anyone can react. For the first time in more years than I can count, our hands go straight to the guns on our belts. We draw and aim at the car. We don't carry often, but tonight Decker made sure we came ready, the pieces he keeps locked at the Monarch and at his place.
"Get out of the fucking car!" My voice could shatter glass.
Wilson's hands fly off the steering wheel. Little fuck, I knew something was up with his overly-attentive ass.
"You better unlock those fucking back doors, you little shit."
Wilson lowers one hand, and the locks click. Lucky for him, he listens, because I'm in no mood to argue.
I'm already at the back door. I'm not waiting, no way, my girl's in there. There's Leah, taped up and slumped at a painful angle, her head against the side of the car. I swing to Victor as Decker comes in from the other side. Dumb fucks didn't have seatbelts on, and they're both on their knees in front of the girls. If this wasn't so fucked up, I'd laugh my ass off.
Victor turns his head and finds my gun aimed at his slicked-back Guido hair.
"Don't reach for anything. Don't take a deep breath. Don't fucking blink." My voice is a steady growl, and his hand drops back to the floor of the car.
Decker's got Victor's buddy by the hair, gun to his temple, when the driver's door opens.
"I'm so sorry. I had to..." Wilson's pathetic little voice comes from behind me. He's a little shit, but nothing about him reads as a threat, so I turn my head and keep my gun on Victor.
"Bullshit." I look back at Victor. "You want to live, right?" I don't wait for an answer. "Take the fucking tape off the girls, then sit your ass in that seat. You too." I nod to the other meathead on the floor in front of May. They both shift and crawl back up, hands where we can see them. Then Victor starts untying Leah and May. "It's okay, baby. It's all okay."