Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
He could swear he spotted some faint light in the distance and was already feeling lightheaded with relief. The scent of dirt in the air was soothing in its familiarity. The moon slipped out from behind clouds in its yellow glory, illuminating the way ahead as if to help him find Frank.
He was almost there.
He could feel it in his bones even before the path between stacked cars spat him into an empty area similar to the one surrounding Frank’s home. Several shipping containers stood in the middle of the square, meeting around a wood-fired outdoor heater and fanning out like rays a child might draw around a circle to depict the sun.
Several motorcycles were parked close by, but the only thing Ezra noticed was Frank’s truck standing alongside them, so he stopped his bicycle and dropped it, breaking into a run toward the glowing flames. Frank’s name burned his throat, but the fear and shock kept his voice in, so he dashed forward, knowing he’d find it once he was safe.
Amused laughter lightened the gloom in his chest further, because it sounded like Dex. Even if Frank wasn’t here at the moment, his nephew would know how to deal with the intruders. Ezra dashed toward the open container where the voice originated. The roar of a power tool sent a shudder down his back, but for all he knew, Dex was disassembling car parts. Which, while illegal, was the last thing Ezra cared about.
He was out of breath when he stepped inside, blinking when bright white light assaulted his eyes.
“Fra—”
His voice died in his throat.
Raw meat was stacked on the edge of a steel table, and another carcass hung from a hook in the back, bleeding out into a massive bucket. But no matter how hard Ezra’s mind tried to make sense of what he was seeing, the very human hands held up by Dex like small flags revealed that this wasn’t, in fact, the aftermath of a hunt in the woods around the junkyard.
He stumbled, wheezing as his lungs demanded air.
This couldn’t be happening.
Only then did he spot Hammer on a small stool next to Dex, hidden in the darkness like a menacing shadow. Smiles slipped from their faces the moment they spotted Ezra, replaced by blank masks.
Ezra couldn’t back out fast enough, and the overwhelming stench of blood got him so panicked he wiggled sideways and hit a bucket. It rattled when it tipped to the floor and spilled blood-drenched intestines all over his shoes.
He couldn’t hold in the scream.
In rubber gloves and a red-stained apron, Dex looked like a friendly butcher, but all the human parts took Ezra right back to the scene at Paul’s, which got him here in the first place.
Ezra’s scream put Dex in motion, and he hid the severed hands behind his back.
“I don’t think you should be here, sweetcheeks,” Dex said, but Hammer was already moving.
He got up from the stool and grabbed a massive sledgehammer, which had been resting against the wall. The screech its head made against the floor sent Ezra bolting toward the darkness outside, away from the blood, the guts, and people who had eaten at his table yet were no better than the monster hunting Ezra.
His mind wrestled with what that meant, but right now the need to flee overcame all else, and he all but flew toward the edge of the square, where piles of cars and tires might protect him from the predators.
He might have evaded the wolves who’d tracked him here, but what if the hunters he’d stumbled upon instead proved even more dangerous?
Dex had been laughing, laughing as he chopped some poor soul’s hands off.
What. The. Fuck?
Frank’s truck was right there. Dex couldn’t possibly be doing this without him knowing. Was this the “business” he’d needed to deal with tonight?
As this new reality slotted into place, Paul’s visit on Ezra’s first night at the junkyard made perfect sense. Paul hadn’t come to get rid of the victim’s car. He’d come to get rid of the body.
And Frank had assisted him, all while assuring Ezra he knew nothing about the terrible things Paul was up to.
What had Ezra been thinking? Those two men were friends.
Friends tight enough to fuck the same escort, and for Paul to not only introduce Frank to Ezra but also pay for his first visit.
Of course Frank knew Paul was a cold-blooded killer.
Breath was stuck in Ezra’s throat, but he ran ahead nevertheless. He couldn’t follow the road, because Dex and Hammer would catch up to him in seconds and spread Ezra out on Dex’s butcher table. But if he found a good enough hiding place and waited things out, maybe he stood a chance?
Would Frank even apologize for what was about to happen, or would he choose to avoid confrontation and leave Ezra to the wolves in sheep's clothing?