Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
“I called her a traitor. Said she didn’t love Gran or she would’ve been right there next to me, beating Clein’s head in. I said she always wanted to get off the farm and leave Bedlam, and she was glad Gran’s dead because nothing was holding her back. Then I told her to get the fuck out, and she did. It was a t-terrible thing to say.” My chest heaved, rocking in sobs. “I wish I could blame the drugs, but that was all me, cutting down the only family I had left.”
I swiped a rough hand across my face. “It was a while before I decided to get off the pills and work on getting my life back. In that time, AgriProspects ran out of money and never got their hands on the farm. I’ve been trying to get it, and Ivy, back ever since.” I met his gaze. “Why did I tell you all of this? Because that’s your answer, Roan. Anything. I’d do anything to protect my home and my family.”
Roan laced our fingers together. “Are you in this with us, Rain?”
I thought of Jeremy. Foundry. Sheriff Jack. The Letter Man.
“Whatever it takes.”
Chapter Fourteen
I held Roan’s words in my ears on the ride to the farm the next day. I don’t remember the excuse I gave the guys to get away. It was all a fog, and Cairo and the guys were distracted dissecting every word Roan said at the party the night before.
None of them were too pleased at Roan’s promise to back off if they chose the Crows and Bedlam 2.0. He reminded them the best way to control the masses was to give them the illusion of choice and control. Look at the entire American government system.
Roan was an interesting guy with thought processes that I’d bet would dizzy me trying to figure out, but he struck the first serious strike against the Crows. I’d go so far to say he won the war. The Bedlam Boys were not good guys, and this experience would not reform them or make them nicer.
That said, they also weren’t drug dealers, rapists, boy toys, or roving campus for random people to beat up just because. If someone was out there trying to make a case for the Crows, I wished I was there to see him sweat and stumble over his argument.
The sun had set by the time Frankie’s fill-in dropped me off. It was her day off and she was entitled to a fun, relaxing night with her kids. It was me destined for nightmares.
I walked past the creaking farm sign, wishing I came earlier. It was eight o’clock. Four hours before the Letter Man was supposed to arrive. Plenty of time for me to set myself up to lie in wait.
I went inside the barn, set up a few hay bales, and picked up my bow. It was an odd feeling having it in my hands. I expected it to be tainted. That every time I closed on the wood, Scott Cavendish would pop in my mind.
No. All I saw was Gran and Ivy. Long summer days practicing while they cheered me on. Gran correcting my stance. Ivy tickling me so I’d miss and send it sailing through the trees.
I chose archery because it’s about patience—and being badass. Finding your stance. Feeling your shot. Breathing, aiming, focusing, and letting nothing steal your center.
Archery was my calm place. With a bow in my hand, I was always strong enough to prove them wrong.
I stayed inside the barn, practicing my shot, reading on my phone, and eating handfuls of the snacks tucked in my bag.
Jeremy flashed on my screen forty-five minutes in.
“Hello?”
“Everything,” he growled. “I want to know everything about them, where they’re staying, and how to get to them now!”
I flinched, drawing the phone away. Not that I blamed him. Paris told me earlier that they shouted the guy out of his own house screaming brother-fucker. Coke-peddler, manwhore, and rapist were the words du jour gifted Gael, Jonah, and Bentley.
They locked themselves in their rooms and called the cops to bust up the party. She said the officers brought the Crows in too over the huge quantities of controlled substances sitting in bowls all over the place.
Jeremy Ellis was not having a good day.
“Is your brother okay?” I asked.
His tone sharpened. “Why are you asking about him? Everything Banks said was bullshit. He planted that stuff on my phone. I never—”
“Whoa, slow down. I promise it was an innocent question.”
“He’s fine,” he snapped. “Roan was smart getting him out of the way, so he couldn’t say who those texts were really for. Now we have to be smart.”
We.
“Where are they staying? I see the lights on at St. James’s place. Are they all there or just him?”