Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 779(@200wpm)___ 623(@250wpm)___ 519(@300wpm)
Right.
He was right.
Of course he was right.
Whatever was best for Stevie.
But Shannon’s boyfriend was going to die.
“Brett?”
“Yeah,” I barked into the phone. “Yeah. I’ll steer clear. Just, give me a call if you need anything.”
“If you’re staying the night, maybe come over in the morning. I think Stevie would appreciate it.”
“Of course. Anything, Will.” My voice broke again. “Anything.”
“Yeah,” his was strained again. “I’ll keep in touch, update you.”
We ended the call after that, but I didn’t see anything in front of me. Not for a long time. My phone was ringing once more, and I looked at the screen. It was Monroe.
I declined that call.
Then I drove, leaving town. My phone lit up again when I was entering Roussou.
It was Billie this time.
I was wrong in getting involved with her, not with what I was about to do. Her boyfriend made her sell drugs.
I knew all the bad shit that came along with selling drugs. I knew it because Budd forced me to be a part of that world too. History was repeating itself and I’d be damned before I let anything else happen to my niece.
I’d need to stay away from Billie after this.
A drug dealer had a boss, and they had a boss, and they had a boss so once I found Shannon’s boyfriend, I knew what it would take to get all the information out of him. Knew how long it would take. The blood that’d be shed. The screams I’d ring out of him, and only when I was satisfied with all the names he could give me, and after I’d make him plead for his death, then I’d end him.
I was like my sister. I was like my brother. There was more bad in me than good, and that bad just surged over the line, overtaking me.
I’d had a good run, but it was time to return to my old roots.
I should’ve stayed away from Billie from the beginning.
60
BILLIE
Knock, knock!
I gasped, jerking upright from the couch, my phone still in my hand.
Lo gasped too, from the other end of the call, “Who is that?”
Knock, knock!
But it sounded more like, bang, bang! It was that hard and that quick.
“Someone’s at the door, Lo.”
“No shit, Billie. Who is it?”
It sounded again.
“Oh my God, what are you going to do?”
I stood, my knees were shaking. I clutched the phone tighter. “I don’t know. What should I do?”
“You could call the police.”
“I could.” I frowned, looking at the emptied wine bottle on the table. “I think I’m drunk.”
“I am too. Brett never got back to your room, did he?”
“Come on!” a male voice yelled from the other side.
“It’s a guy,” I raised the phone, speaking into it in a hushed voice, my head folding down. My shoulders hunched too.
“Again, no shit. I’m on speaker, Billie. Are you going to call the police?”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m on the phone with you.”
“Oh, yeah. Do you want me to call the police for you? Where are you again?”
“How are you going to call? You’re on the phone too. With me.” She’d been drinking with me. We’d been commiserating together, but after Lo reassured me that I hadn’t been totally wrong because Brett was all up in my business, and not returning the favor, so a part of me had been right. The ultimatum part, which I never meant as an ultimatum, was a bit harsh. We came up with a plan on what to say to help ease the sting of that threat away because I loved Brett. I had no intention of leaving his side anytime soon, except now in the very literal sense.
“I can have Roger call. Where are you?”
I migrated closer to the door, whispering into the phone, “Fallen Crest.”
“Where?”
“Fallen Crest.” Only a little louder this time.
“Where?”
“Fallen Crest!” I shouted this time.
“Hey!” came from the other side of the door.
“Shhhh. He heard me.”
“I didn’t say anything.” Then, on her end, “Roger! Roger!” Lo cursed into the phone. “I swear, if I’m not talking about sports, alcohol, or golf, the entire house could fall down around him and he wouldn’t hear.”
Knock! Knock! “Seriously, woman. This isn’t a joke.”
I whispered into the phone, “He’s getting impatient. We’ve talked too much. I need to do something.”
“My God, I can hear that too. You’re not being quiet.” That was the guy again.
“Did you hear that?” another hiss into my phone.
“ROGER!” She muttered another curse before, “Billie’s on the phone. She wants to know what kind of wine you want her and Brett to pick up on the way?”
A squeak sounded, and then, “What?” Roger’s voice came over the phone next. “What’d you say? Billie’s coming over with wine?”
“No! You need to call 911 for her instead.”
“No!” I shouted into the phone.
“911? Is she okay?”
I was fully yelling now, “If he calls 911 where you live, that’ll go to your local dispatch. I’m not in Texas. I’m in California.”