Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 126580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I saw the text when I was almost to my car.
Leo: Call me asap. Your aunt’s call earlier was a big deal.
I didn’t react, not outwardly, but inwardly, a whole ball of dread filled me. I had known earlier that it was a big deal, a really big deal, but I’d tried telling myself to leave it alone.
I called once I was inside my car.
He picked up on the first ring. “There’s a situation.”
I prepared myself, hardening. “What is it?”
“You know where your aunt lives?”
“My aunt? Yeah . . .”
“Can you go and get her?”
“What?” I bit out, alarm filling my chest. “What’s happened?”
“A domestic situation happened. Your aunt is leaving him. Her and the kids. They’re at a local shelter, but I talked to a guy I know up there, one I trust. Your uncle has a reputation, and he’s not one to stay away from the shelter. Your aunt’s best bet is to get out of town ASAP. I volunteered to go up, but your mom overheard and started howling about it. She’s not receptive to taking care of your aunt here.”
“Shit, Leo. You’ve been there all night long?”
His voice came out gruff. “I don’t mind. Don’t have much else going on today anyways.”
Right. Because taking care of a drunk, especially the drunk of your best friend’s wife, who wasn’t quiet on the attitude side when she was liquored up, was totally something I’d be up for handling on my day off. But Leo asked.
“I know where she lives, but there’s basically no relationship with her. I’ll head up, see what I can do, though.”
“You good to drive?”
“Wired for a fight, to be honest.”
He chuckled, relaxing a little. “Let’s hope it doesn’t get to that.”
I laughed, starting the engine and noting I’d need another tank of gas and a couple big drinks of straight caffeine. I had a two-hour drive ahead of me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
TRACE
We arrived, and the plan had been to grab the uncle and take him somewhere else for our interrogation. That was until we walked in and found the house in shambles.
The plan changed.
The place was empty. Ashton walked through the house while I surveyed the primary bedroom. The wife’s clothes were gone; an empty suitcase was thrown on the bed. There were more empty spaces in the closet. Spaces where other suitcases might’ve been but weren’t anymore.
Ashton came in. “Kids’ stuff is gone. Wife left him.”
I nodded. “We wait. He’ll be back.”
“And if she’s with him?”
I gave him a dry look. “She look like she’ll be coming back?”
“Domestic fight.” He was noting the holes in the wall, the shattered glass. “A lot of times they come back before finally leaving or getting dead.”
“We stay and wait. This is a small town. If we start looking for him, it’ll raise flags.”
Ashton gave me a nod.
Demetri, one of my guards, came in as we were in the kitchen. He gestured outside. “They got a shed in the back. We can take him in there?” He pointed at the other door. “Or the basement. There’s a room in the back that looks built for shit like this.”
Demetri and Pajn. My two guards. They’d grown up with me, guys we knew from the neighborhood, guys that got into trouble with Ashton and me when we were teenagers.
“What do you mean it looks built for this shit?”
He gave me a long and hard look. “Come see for yourself, boss.”
I followed him down, knowing Ashton was coming right behind.
He led us through a room that had chairs set up in the corner, facing the corner. A chalkboard was on the wall. There were no windows, no light shining in from outside. Cement flooring. We went through that room to another room, which was just as sparse. Another room that had canned foods lining the shelves and then to another room that opened from a small door that we all had to stoop to get through.
“Trace.”
I turned, seeing where Ashton was gesturing. The door opened our way. A lock was on the outside of the door.
My blood went cold.
“Boss.” Pajn indicated a post.
It had a chain wrapped around it. It was stained, and I knew the smell of dried blood. The post was drenched in it. At the base of the post was another stain from liquids, and I didn’t think it was only blood that made that stain. It circled out from the post.
He kicked a bucket. “Smells like this is used for piss and shit.”
“Goddamn,” came from Ashton, under his breath.
I was taking it all in.
A whip was hanging on the wall.
A knife.
A cleaver.
More chains.
Manacles that looked like they were from the medieval era.
“Fuck.” Ashton was staring at a pair of fuzzy handcuffs, and that was more than enough for me.
I growled, “We’re doing it in here. Right. In. Here.”
The guys were in agreement.