Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I followed Finn to the house, and he walked right in. Small kitchen to the left, where I spotted Bran sitting in a lawn chair at a table that couldn’t be worth fifty cents at a yard sale. To the right, however… I stopped short at the sight.
They’d covered the entire living room in thick plastic, and the two men were tied to chairs at the center of the room, bags over their heads. A spotlight sat on the floor in a corner, casting shadows on the ceiling.
Finn eyed the men and leaned against the doorway. “Meet Jakov and Luka. We’ve confirmed that Jakov was the one who assaulted your ma.”
“He confessed?”
He shook his head. “You see his hands more clearly in the video, and he has a small birthmark near his thumb.”
Right. I remembered I’d seen them. He’d grabbed hold of her…
Nausea crawled up thickly in my throat, and I couldn’t move for a moment. Two months of waiting, and now the moment had arrived. I heard muffled sounds from them, so they must be gagged underneath those bags too. Arms tied behind their backs, legs tied to the chairs. They couldn’t so much as move their feet.
“What do they do when they’re not out violating women?” I asked dully.
Finn blew out a breath. “They work for the same delivery company. Luka was born here, but Jakov came with his parents from Croatia as a kid. Mother’s from Croatia, father from Russia. Both are now dead. Luka’s folks are alive but retired and moved to Arizona. They’re thirty-seven and forty years old. Luka’s criminal record is more impressive than Jakov’s. Mostly theft and traffic violations.”
“Boss, I have service again,” Bran said.
Finn turned around and headed for the kitchen. “Aight, call Ford and see how close he is. He should be here now.”
I wanted to hear them talk. I walked—
“Oi.”
I glanced back at Finn, and he held up a duffel bag.
“Don’t get any wounds, and try not to break the plastic,” he told me. “I hope you’re not attached to your shoes and clothes either.”
What? Oh. Leave no traces behind…?
“Um.”
“Yeah, we figured you weren’t smart enough to bring extra clothes,” he stated. “Kellan’s bringing some.”
Okay, we could discuss my level of intelligence later. I carefully removed my watch and handed over my personal belongings to Finn.
He let out a low whistle at the sight of the watch.
I accepted the bag—heavy bag—and headed into the living room, and I didn’t stop until I stood right in front of the men.
The bag dropped with a clank, and it made me curious to see what was in there.
I wouldn’t be the first to get violent with them. No signs of blood or anything on the plastic, yet their hoodies had bloodstains on them. Their jeans were dirty too. Not to mention their socks. Christ. Had they once been white?
Pigs.
I removed the burlap bags from their heads and came face-to-face with them for the first time.
Luka blinked and squinted up at me. He had a nice shiner.
Jakov had a split lip and a cracked eyebrow.
Duct tape all around their heads.
“Look at’chu ugly cunts, fucking around and findin’ out,” I said. “You guys are so cooked, it ain’t even funny.”
I shifted my gaze to Jakov. The coward had covered most of his face when he’d attacked Mom, and it made me a little glad. At the very least, she didn’t have to see a face in her nightmares.
“You made my mom’s life a living hell,” I said quietly.
He pulled off a weak glare and tried to speak, which obviously didn’t work.
“Have they eaten?” I hollered. ’Cause they were kinda drowsy in their movements. I bent down and unzipped the bag, and holy mother lode of handyman tools. Like, this shit coulda come straight from my dad.
After today, I could tell him they were gone.
It’d never been an option for him to get in on the action. I’d mentioned it once to Finn, and he’d shaken his head. No way. No outsiders getting involved.
“They had some fries yesterday,” Finn replied. “Other than that, just water twice a day.”
Were we running a luxury resort here?
“Okay.” I dug out pliers, a hammer, utility knives, a hatchet, bolt cutters, wire, more duct tape, and—yay, brass knuckles.
No throwing stars. What a shame.
I left the tools on the floor and tested the brass knuckles.
Fun.
Perfect fit.
I flexed my fingers and immediately wanted to try them, so I wasted no time. I pulled back and punched Luka right across the jaw, causing his head to fling sideways.
“They work.” I smiled as he screamed behind the tape. “I like these.”
Jakov tensed up and started breathing heavier.
I picked up a knife next, and it made me happy to see him so chickenshit when I got closer. He leaned back as much as he could in the chair, not that it stopped me. And I wasn’t going to hurt him with it yet. For now, I only cut up the duct tape.