Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Holden
Five years ago
The rain patters down on me as the small gathering breaks up. I guess I understand it, the lack of attendance. The last few years of her life, my mother wasn’t exactly good company. One of the reasons I moved out, in fact, was that I had to make a choice.
Her life . . . or my life.
“You okay, son?” the priest asks me, patting me on the shoulder. “I know she was troubled, but she was still your mother.”
“I’ll be fine, Father,” I assure him. “I know who caused this.”
The priest sighs. He’s heard me before, when I’ve talked with him in confession. It’s the closest thing to therapy I can afford. “Holden, you know I cannot condone what you’ve talked with me about. Justice comes in God’s time, not ours.”
“No offense, Father, but if He is in any way just, he’ll give me vengeance,” I reply. Ignoring my mother’s grave for a moment, I look at the marker next to it, a plain brass plaque on the turf. “Look at him, buried in a pauper’s grave. We had so little when he died. We couldn’t afford a fucking headstone. They took everything.”
He parts his lips to speak, but I cut him off, rage getting the better of me.
“You know, for a few years there, I remember men would come by. Men who said they knew my father, that it was unfortunate what happened to him, but that things were going to be okay,” I add, kneeling in the grass next to my father’s grave marker.
“But those men, the stories they’d tell me . . . how they swore I’d have a place with them, running this city when I got older. That I’d be to them like my father was, but even better. They were liars, all of them. They just wanted to soothe their guilty consciences.”
“Holden, holding onto this bitterness, this darkness . . . it will corrupt you.” He emphasized, “Do not let the darkness corrupt you.”
I chuckle softly. “Tell that to the judge who says I’ve got issues and I need to stay in a state-approved foster home until I turn eighteen.”
“I can see what I can do about that if you’d like, Holden.”
I shake my head, touching my father’s grave marker before getting up. “Don’t worry about it, Father. I’ll be alright. They told me enough. I’ll do what I must.”
“Son—”
“Don’t,” I cut him off. I turn, lifting the collar on my coat up to cover my neck as I prepare to walk away. “I’m not going to let them get away with this.”
GABRIEL
Present
My heart hammers and I can barely see straight. With white-knuckled fists, I resist the urge to punch the fucking window.
“Drive faster.” I grit out the words as we speed down the highway, following the trace from Holden’s phone before he either threw it or removed the card. Either way, we lost signal.
Her phone is back at the club. There’s no way to trace them. All we know is he went down this highway before tossing his phone out. His intel shows he owns a single property this far up north. If they’re not there . . . I’ll never find them.
Hopelessness threatens and anger resonates as I yell, “Faster!” It’s agony sitting in the goddamn passenger seat, my phone pinging with information upon information about Holden Jackson now known as Holden Lewis. He’s Ivan’s son. I never knew he even had a fucking son.
Joshua glances at me but pushes the accelerator a little harder.
There’s nothing but agony to accompany us. We could be too late. My head falls back against the seat rest. It could all be too fucking late.
“Are you sure that you’re making the right choice?” Joshua asks as the asphalt blurs. He gave me two choices.
“Joshua, if Holden wanted to talk, he could have talked. He could have approached me at any time one on one, if that was his intent. He took Kiersten.” My voice cracks as fear riddles its way into every possible outcome.
Joshua nods and points toward the glove box. “Pistol.” A beat passes as we turn off the highway. “Holden’s well-trained.”
There’s not an ounce of hesitation in me. I see it all play out in my mind. The moment I see him, he’s dead. There’s no other option. My pulse races. Adrenaline screams in my veins. And I’m fucking stuck here, waiting to let it out.
Joshua follows the directions from his team, and all the while, I prepare to end this once and for all, remembering every moment I’ve ever had with her. Every little fight, every time she looked at me like she wanted to tell me she loved me but didn’t. And the first time that we made love.
Emotions swell in my throat, and all I can do is to tell Joshua to drive faster.