Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
By the end of the second week, I had seventeen texts from the bastard. Seventeen reminders that somewhere in this city, a man believed he watched me and knew everything I did. I sat on the edge of Inferno’s bed with the phone in my hand, the screen illuminated by the last text of the evening. Not only that, but if I didn’t get everything straightened out and the bakery reopened soon, I was in real danger of losing everything I was fighting for.
I’ll dream of you tonight, Junie. Just like I always do.
The room was dark except for the light from the screen. Inferno was downstairs with Knuckles, going over whatever Knight had received from Inferno’s friend, Frank Danner, about the storage fire.
I should have deleted the texts or blocked the number. Or better yet, given my stupid phone to Inferno, so Knight could do Knight shit with it. Which, he was likely to turn it off since he’d cloned my phone and got every text I did. Instead, I went downstairs with the phone in my hand. I was done pretending I was strong enough to lift this one by myself.
I found Inferno in the common room with Knuckles and Hawk, the three of them bent over a map spread across the pool table, red markers circling locations I didn’t recognize. They looked up when I came in.
I didn’t say anything. Just held out the phone, screen up, Brett’s last text glowing like something toxic. Inferno took it and read it. His jaw worked once, hard, the muscle jumping under the stubble. Then he scrolled. Read another. Another.
“He thinks he’s winning,” I said. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. “How much longer does this have to go on?”
“Not much longer, honey,” Inferno said. “Knight didn’t tell me he’d been harassing you.” He leveled a look on me. “Neither did you.”
“Yeah, well, I knew I was safe and thought I could handle it. But the bastard is just so fucking smug!”
“We’re closing in on him, Juniper,” Knuckles said as reassuringly as he could. “When we catch him, we don’t want blowback.”
“If he wasn’t being such a little coward, we’d have him already,” Inferno muttered.
“Yeah. He won’t come out of hiding.” Knuckles scrubbed a hand over his face. “Knight thinks he’s following the tracker with an app on his phone, so he’s working from that angle. It won’t take him long to track Brett down.”
“We just want to keep you safe, Juniper.” Inferno moved to me, reaching out to take my hand in his. “This won’t be forever.”
“I know, but all this is starting to get to me. He’s the one who left me!”
“He’s a narcissistic asshole.” Hawk crossed his arms over his chest. “He’ll fuck up. It’s only a matter of time.”
“If we pull the tracker, he knows we’re onto him,” Knuckles said, but I could tell he was tired of the game too. “He goes to ground. We lose any chance of catching him with evidence.”
“Then we find another way.” I held his gaze. “Because I am not spending another day letting that man believe he has any claim on me. Not even in his imagination.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to touch. Inferno looked at me, really studied me, and I watched him weigh what he thought was best with what I wanted. The cost of what I was asking against the cost of denying me.
Knuckles cleared his throat. “She’s right.”
We both turned. Knuckles stood with his arms crossed, his massive frame blocking the light from the overhead fixture. “I’m tired of this shit, too. Time to try something else.”
“Something else,” Hawk echoed. He was already reaching for his phone. “I’ll get Knight. And Zero.”
It took an hour. Zero rolled through the gate just after nine on yet another run to one of my usual places, trying to get Brett to lower his guard and start sending pictures again, letting us know he was actually nearby and following the tracker again. Knight retrieved the tracker from Zero, carrying it to me in the Ziploc bag they’d put it in.
“Your call,” Knight said, and tossed the bag to me.
The compound yard was empty except for the five of us. The security lights threw our shadows long across the gravel. I set the bag on the ground and pulled my phone from my pocket.
“Inferno,” I said. “I need a hammer.”
He didn’t ask why. Just turned and walked to the guard shed beside the gate and came back with a claw hammer, the handle worn smooth from use. I positioned the phone on an upturned bucket, camera aimed at the bag, then brought up the camera app and switched it to video. The little red light started blinking when I hit start.
Then I picked up the hammer. With a big, bright smile, I hit the fucking disc inside the bag with the hammer several times, shattering the little tracker with violent glee. Then I picked up the phone and turned it around so I could speak to him. “Go fuck yourself, dickwad.”