Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69474 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“So sometimes it’s all right to go outside the law when there aren’t other choices.”
“That was—”
“A special situation?” I asked. “So is this.” I was loving how in sync Ambrose and I were. I could almost believe things were like they used to be between us.
“If you have information about a current investigation, you should pass it on to me so I can do my job.”
Ambrose shook his head. “You know you’re not going to bring this organization down without help. At best, you might take out the local connection, but the leader will just replace him. Everyone down the chain is expendable.”
The sheriff glared at my brother. “Do you think I don’t fucking know that? I’ve not been citing people for shooting gators and stopping bar fights all my life. I’ve put away some real pieces of shit.”
I had no doubt he was sincere. He was proud of the work he’d done. He’d probably truly believed in justice until his chief taught him a hard lesson. “We may not always work within the same rules as you,” I said. “But there are things we won’t put up with. When someone crosses one of those lines, we eliminate them. We’re a hell of a lot more efficient than the justice system.”
“I’m sure you are, but that doesn’t make it right.” He sighed. “Let’s hear this plan.”
Ambrose explained what we wanted to do, except he changed the end result to sound more palatable to Winston. He said we’d make sure all the culprits were in custody. We had no intention of leaving any of them alive.
“You’re going to trust the inefficient justice system with these men?”
He wasn’t stupid. He had to know that wasn’t acceptable to us.
“Are you saying you have other ideas?” Ambrose asked.
“I’m saying I don’t trust you, and I’m not going to take part in your plan. If you leave now, I won’t press charges.”
Ambrose laughed. “We’re not giving you an option on this.”
“Are you going to shoot me?”
“How could we have your cooperation if you were dead?” I asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
When Winston turned and yanked Travis’s gun away from him, I rushed the sheriff.
29
Travis
Fuck. Why hadn’t I been paying better attention. I’d let my grip on my gun go slack as Winston went back and forth with Dax and Ambrose. They both had weapons pointed at him, and I didn’t think he’d take any chances. I was supposed to be there for them, and I’d totally underestimated Winston. He’d been a cop in a big city. I was sure he was used to being threatened by men who were scary as hell, but it was so easy to be taken in by how nice he seemed.
The sheriff was a good fighter, but Dax was fucking masterful. In seconds, he had one of Winston’s arms pinned behind his back and an arm around Winston’s neck.
The sheriff kept struggling. I expected Ambrose to shoot him, but he must have been afraid of injuring Dax.
The sheriff kicked out at Dax, making him stumble. They bumped into me, and I overbalanced. I thought I was going into the ditch after all, but Dax reached for me, catching hold of my arm and dragging me back onto the bank while keeping the sheriff in a chokehold.
I stared at him, hardly comprehending how easily he’d rescued me. Despite the danger and fear, my body reacted to him. He really was the protector I’d always wanted. As soon as we were alone…
Winston had his hand wrapped around Dax’s arm, trying to pull it away from his neck, but Dax held on tight.
“Let him go, Dax,” Ambrose ordered.
Dax ignored him. The sheriff was going to lose consciousness soon.
“Dax! Travis is okay. Let him go.”
I laid a hand on Dax’s back. “I am. Please.”
Dax released the sheriff, and the man dropped to the ground, gasping for air.
“We’re going to take care of this problem with or without your help,” Ambrose said. “If you want credit for it and a chance to participate, you’ll work with us.”
“And if I don’t?” Winston asked, voice strained.
“We’ll have to release information about your participation in the cover-up.”
He froze. “What information?”
“All your communication with the chief. Your agreement to do as he asked.”
“I never—”
“But you did, or, at least, you pretended to.”
“Fuck you.” He scrambled to his feet. Ambrose raised his gun when the sheriff moved toward him.
“If you don’t believe I have it, check your email. I sent proof of what I know. LePlatt has set up a drop-off in three days. That’s when we put the plan into action. Are you in?”
He shook his head, and I hated the defeated look on his face. “Fine, but I’m fully in. I want full participation and full knowledge of what’s going down.”
Ambrose held out his hand to shake. “Done.”