Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
A fucking psychic? He didn’t believe in that bullshit, never had and never would. No, there had to be something else—somebody watching him. But who? He’d been so careful. For nearly two years, he’d allowed his hatred to simmer because he didn’t want to draw any attention to himself until his deeds were done. Sure, he’d enjoyed toying with his wife for several weeks, but even he couldn’t draw that fun out forever. That sorry bitch deserved every damn thing he did to her…the way he made her die slowly. The most beautiful aspect being that she knew she was going to die, trapped in that brick box like the animal she was. What kind of woman turned on her own son? She’d doubted Joshua; he could see it in her eyes when she talked about it. Just like the rest of them, she’d planned on testifying against him.
So, she’d had to die. Slowly. Painfully. And, of course, with as much humiliation as he could hand out to her. He smiled as he remembered the things he’d done to her. The way she’d begged for her life…then how she’d begged for her death.
As he memorized the address of the house where the police captain waited to be let through the security gates, he began planning his next trap. He didn’t for one second believe they’d caught him through a psychic, but whoever lived at that house was somebody he intended to learn more about. Somehow, this person had learned of his plans…it was the only way. Psychic, his ass.
He drove away, careful to obey the traffic laws and to do nothing to draw attention to himself. The stupid police thought his house was the only place where he made plans for his enemies—that he only had the vehicles registered to his name? He wasn’t a fool. There were places for him to go…research to be completed. He guaranteed that within the next three hours, he would know who lived at that house, how they’d found him out, and a plan for their demise would be in place.
With all his careful planning, he hadn’t ever really considered the possibility that his identity could be revealed to the police. In all his calculations, him being captured or revealed had never been in the equation. It was okay, though; he was more than prepared to die for his cause if that’s what it took. He didn’t for one minute believe it would ever come to that, but, if it did, he would accept ‘suicide by cop’ if that’s what it took to avenge his son’s murder. Yes, some called his son’s death suicide. He referred to it as murder. If his so-called friends hadn’t turned their backs on him, allowed that damn bitch Veronica to spread her lies, Joshua would still be with him.
Joshua’s death had definitely been murder.
No, he wasn’t afraid to die…but he wouldn’t go without first killing whoever the fucking bastard who ruined his well-laid plans. Once that nuisance was taken care of, he would either retire in Switzerland, with enough money in an overseas account to keep him comfortable for the rest of his life, or die by the hands of the police. At this point, he didn’t give a fuck which way it ended, as long as it ended for the one who interfered with his revenge first.
As he drove, he realized the best trap might already be in place. As each moment passed, Ron Perry came closer and closer to getting what he deserved. The drugs he’d dosed him with to keep him unconscious would wear off soon. Perhaps if he just watched and waited…he’d find what he was looking for?
Chapter Seven
Their meeting with the Captain had gone about as well as Ryder imagined it would. The man hated him, and his feelings weren’t much fonder toward Jeremy. The captain might not be able to accuse him of attempted murder any longer, but it didn’t change that he looked down on both Ryder and Jeremy, probably because they were both gay. It wasn’t if the entire department was homophobic, but the overall atmosphere was certainly skewed in that direction.
Since Ryder rarely gave a damn what people thought about him, the asshole comments and side glances hadn’t bothered him enough to attempt to fight back. Like him, Jeremy rarely acted as if he cared what the others thought about him. Now? Ryder didn’t want to go back. He didn’t need the money; his brother had left him a considerable inheritance when he died in the plane crash and would kick his ass for putting up with the homophobic bullshit if he were still alive. Up until now, he hadn’t touched a cent of his inheritance. Maybe it was time he walked away from a brotherhood who didn’t like him, much less have his back in a deadly situation?