Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Closing my eyes, I imagine myself lighting up a cigarette and inhaling deeply on the welcome tang of nicotine, and the sudden rush of calm hits me full-on. But that is something I managed to bury well in the past, and that is where I intend it to stay. The last time I had a drag on a cigarette, it was one that belonged to Bill.
He never worried about vices. He was into them all despite being a cop.
A bright flash of rage surges within me as the memory of our last job together resurfaces: Bill inside, getting his fix, me outside, keeping guard. It was stupid. The undercover operation was in full flow, and we had watched the joint all evening. Bill somehow escaped from a rear exit unseen, making his way back out front as backup arrived. The son of a bitch set me up and had his drug dealing felons inside testify that the bent copper cutting a deal was me. It was lucky I had some dirt on a high-ranking officer that I threatened to expose, or I would have ended up banged up instead of out on my ear with a payoff.
Bill Tappin didn’t get to his high rank through being a decent cop but by knowing the right people inside and outside the force, and being prepared to do whatever it took to survive.
He knows Carter Reynolds.
I flex my hands into fists, trying to keep my rage at bay, but I have to admit defeat.
I stomp down the wooden steps that are slick with moisture and head off into the forest, grabbing West's tomahawk as I go.
I know exactly what I’m going to do.
Not far in, there is a clearing where we store bigger logs, perfect for smashing the crap out of to ward off a fucking stress-induced aneurysm.
I tear off my jacket and toss it aside in one rapid move.
I haul the biggest log out from under the tarp. It's huge and weighty and carries a strong scent of cedar. I throw the ax high and then bring it smashing down. The sound reverberates, sending birds flapping from the trees around me and something scuttling through the undergrowth. I do it again, hitting the same spot, pleased at my precision.
Too hot, I unbutton my shirt and toss it with my coat. I inhale one huge breath to fill my lungs and hold it for as long as possible, lifting my gaze into the navy-blue sky.
I swing the ax and bring it down repeatedly until sweat drips down my spine and heat rises from my skin. A fierce burning in my muscles and the release of pent-up fury does nothing to slow me. Only when the huge log splinters into two huge chunks do I rest the ax head against the ground and pant in relief.
Sweat trickles between my pecs and abdominals, cooling in the chilled air. This is what I need to tip the balance back to a point where I can function. I listen out, hearing nothing but silence around me. Whatever Skye is doing in the studio is quiet.
I continue my frenzied chopping, losing track of time until I almost run out of logs to smash. My thoughts start to calm, and my racing pulse evens out. My swings become less powerful, and I see the destruction that I’ve wrought.
My mind is clear, and I know what I need to do.
I thrust my hand into my pocket and take out my phone, tapping in a number that I haven't used for years but is etched into my mind with a permanent marker. I exhale and keep my voice low. It rings twice, then goes straight to voicemail. Perfect. Leaving a voicemail will be better than speaking to him directly.
Hello Bill. It's me. It's been a while. How are you? I see you've done well. Moved through the ranks. Good for you.
I've been doing some thinking about our days on the force when we were partners. Got me thinking about how sometimes we've just got to redress the balance. You know? Put wrong things right. Repay favors.
I've had a few flashbacks recently. Remembering those times is hitting me hard, Bill. I ended up leaving with my tail between my legs back then and now I see this. Deputy Chief of Police, Bill Tappin!
I wonder how it would look if things from the past came back to haunt us. I don't suppose that would look too good for you, Bill.
Anyway, give my love to Darcy and the boys. I hope they’re well. I haven’t settled down myself just yet.
Things I need to deal with first.
Be good to hear from you. I have the same number, Bill. Get in touch.
I hang up. There is no need to leave my name. He'll know it's me.
And he owes me. There is no doubting it. I covered his ass and ended up out on mine.