Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81581 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 408(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 272(@300wpm)
I wave him in. “Close the door.”
His brows furrow together as he shuts the door and stalks over to the chair in front of my desk. Violet isn’t due for another half hour. I left her house early this morning upon her demand. She was back to her fierce self and promised she’d shoot anything that came through her door.
The only reason I left her was because it wasn’t Vaughn who had been in her house. It was me. I’d been rifling through one of her other closets when I heard her voice. She didn’t rouse when I slipped into her apartment. She didn’t wake when I undressed her. And she didn’t wake when I rubbed her pussy while I jerked off. Again. It was like the night before. Until it wasn’t.
I’d almost been caught.
“What is it?” Bull asks.
“She almost caught me.”
His features darken. “Under her bed?”
“I was looking through her front room closet. She thought it was Vaughn, her ex. Apparently, he was quite a psycho,” I growl.
Bull laughs. “She really knows how to pick ‘em.”
I flip him off. “Fuck you. I’ve already called the locksmith to change her locks out, but, man, she was terrified. I want you to call Dusty and have him see what he can drum up on Vaughn Brecks. Everything, no matter how big or small. I want to find this fuck.”
All humor is wiped from Bull’s face. We only call our ex-military buddy, Dusty, for emergencies when we need info on a big client. This is a fucking emergency.
“You’re taking shit far,” he says with a groan and tugs at the knot on his tie.
“I know. I want her. I want all of her. We have a connection. Both conscious and subconscious. Her body responds to mine. We belong together,” I clip out.
His eyes regard me almost sadly for a moment before he shakes away the look. “Fine. I’ll check it out. Be careful.”
I nod and then let out a heavy breath. “I also want you to shake down every sick fuck who has put his hands on Violet and bring them to me.”
His eyes widen. “Like her entire life?”
I growl. “Here.”
He clenches his jaw and nods. “I have a couple of names right off the top of my head. I’ll get you a list starting with our VP, Brent Adams.”
“I want him gone. And the fact that there is a ‘list’ has me wanting to go fucking postal,” I seethe, my hands fisting tight. Who the fuck is Brent Adams, anyway?
“I’ve mentioned it to you before but—”
I glare at him. “What?”
“Do you remember when I fired, Jack Langston?”
The name rings absolutely no bells.
“He only worked here for three years,” he tries.
I shrug. “Don’t know him.”
“Well, I saw him slap Letty’s ass once in the break room, so I canned him. To save her from embarrassment, I told the employees he got a job elsewhere.”
“Her name is Violet,” I growl.
He holds his hands up in defense. “Fine. Violet. Anyway, Truman replaced him but apparently, Clint hires shitty guys because he’s number one on the list right beside Brent Adams.”
I slam my fist on the mahogany desk and glare. “I want Adams and Truman gone. But not before I talk to them.”
Bull’s eyebrow lifts and he smirks. “You can’t kick their asses.”
“No, but I can scare the shit out of the little pricks.”
He sighs and stands up. “I guess it’s high time we cleaned house around here.”
“We have eleven days to make her stay,” I tell him, my mind whirring with ways to make that happen. I’ll be goddamned if I let her go to Slante who is no better than Adams or Truman or any of these other fuckers.
“What if she doesn’t want to stay?” he challenges.
My nostrils flare. “That’s just not a fucking option, man.”
After I place an order to the flower company, I start a little recon on my own. I start with Facebook first. I sift through her friends list looking for connections and cross-reference most of them as women who work for me and their friends. Nobody traces back to the town where her mother works. I’d looked up the diner name on the paper I found in her closet. My Violet is far from home.
Vaughn Brecks doesn’t come up on Facebook but he does have a rap sheet a mile fucking long. Mostly for drugs, assault and battery, and pimping and pandering. My blood pressure rises as I wonder if he pimped Violet out. The thought makes me borderline fucking crazy. I’m going to find this guy and make him bleed.
Unfortunately, he’s not showing up anywhere when I try to hunt him down. No addresses. No legal jobs. Nothing. And he isn’t dead because there isn’t any record of that either. He’s flying low under the radar.
But now that I have my sights on him, I’ll find him. I’ll put my crosshairs on his motherfucking head and blow his brains from here to Connecticut.