Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
“You believe this shit? Like that fucking thing is even worth anything. And that goddamn plastic distorts the image. Which is real fun when you’re trying to rub one out.”
Christ.
A part of me just wanted to turn around and walk back out.
But he was the only link I had to the mystery woman.
“Yeah, man, I’ve fucked all the USDA Grade-A pussy in this town,” he’d bragged a couple of minutes later. “Blondes, brunettes, small, big, old, young. Been hitting it all. Especially since I got out,” he said, waving an arm toward the prison. “Could be any one of those bitches.”
Bitches.
Classy.
“Any of them you piss off bad enough to get you sent to the hospital?”
“All of ‘em wanted something serious, y’know? Got a taste of something they liked,” he added, smirking.
Good God, he was a piece of work.
“Sure. Well, what about the chick who got you sent away?” I asked.
“Bayleigh,” he said. “Spelled the fancy way. That lying fucking bitch. Said I beat her up and raped her. Can you believe that shit?” he asked, shaking his head. “If I got a little rough with her, she had it coming. Always fucking talking. Never shutting the fuck up. Bitches need to know a man needs some peace and quiet sometimes. And rape? Can’t rape your own girl, am I right? She’s got to give it up. That’s how it works.”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
I was at my max.
I was half-tempted to beat the shit out of the bastard, that little electric current across my skin was thrilled at the concept. That I could let that darkness inside of me out, take it out on someone who genuinely had it coming.
Maybe I would.
But not in the hotel room.
I’d made a promise to Jack.
He’d never forgive me if I fucked up the “irreplaceable” carpet that was probably irreplaceable because it was sprayed in every sort of cancer-causing fire retardant that was available back in the day.
“Yeah, well, okay. Thanks, man. Gave me some leads,” I said, making my way toward the door.
“Don’t gotta rush off. Stay, have a beer,” he invited, waving toward his half-finished six-pack.
“Wish I could. Gotta shove off. Work,” I added, shrugging.
“Yeah, know all about that,” he said, though I was pretty sure the fuck didn’t have anything work-wise to speak of. Maybe an odd job here and there. Some of the landscapers and shit around town would hire the ex-cons for day work.
“Yeah. See you around,” I said, moving outside, and having the sudden need to take a fucking shower to wipe his slime off of me. And he hadn’t even touched me.
But at least I had a name.
Bayleigh.
Spelled the fancy way.
It was a relatively small town.
It didn’t take long to track her down.
Then to find her sister Everleigh.
And to track her on a dirt road leading out of town—past the farms, out toward the mountains.
Where I thought nothing existed.
But, as it turned out, it did.
A tiny house surrounded by plants.
Maybe even some fucking belladonna.
I didn’t get close when Everleigh went to visit. She was only there for a little bit then headed back out. But I did keep an eye on the place from afar.
Until we had to do our run.
But I made a promise to myself.
As soon as we got back, I was going to sneak away… and confront the person who’d poisoned me.
Things went down uneventful in Nevada. We didn’t expect issues with the vigilante group. And it seemed like being out of state was too far for whoever had ambushed Riff and Raff.
But, well, everyone got the idea to drop into Vegas on the way back, which meant another day or two was tacked on the trip before we finally made it back home.
From there, I needed another day before I could get away from my responsibilities and head over.
I took my bike as far as I dared before parking it and making the rest of the way on foot.
You knew I was serious about this shit when I was willing to deal with the unrelenting heat to walk a couple of miles toward the tiny house homestead in the middle of nowhere.
The house itself wasn’t anything special. Just the kind of wooden box you expected when you thought of a tiny house. There was a small front porch, a cobblestone path, and more flowers and herbs and shrubs than I could count.
How she kept them all alive off-grid in an area with little rainfall was beyond me, but kept them alive she did.
You know, so she could use them to kill other people.
How there was a poisons expert on the outskirts of Shady Valley without anyone seeming to know it was beyond me. But, clearly, she had some sort of business going for herself with a select clientele.
Like Everleigh. And her battered, abused sister Bayleigh.