Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“It’s a start. I’ll see what I can dig up on the kids who went there.”
I looked away. “You don’t have to. You’re trying to find the person who aimed a knife at your heart. That’s too important.”
“The shit stain who came after me is an opportunistic coward who ran off at the first chance and hasn’t had the balls to come for me since.” He tipped my chin, bringing me back. “The guy after you is a lot more dangerous. Finding him is most important.”
I couldn’t argue that.
“Just be careful. He’s made it clear I’d regret it if I brought people into our ‘game.’ This guy does not bluff.”
“I take whippings, not worry.” Light glanced off his sharpened canine. “Want to drive your warnings home, do it the right way.”
I lightly bit his finger, then not so lightly. “Why should you get a treat when you’re bad?”
Unsurprisingly, Roan convinced me he did deserve a treat. The locks were installed and we ended up in his room. I literally rode him across the floor, smacking his ass with a riding crop to the tune of his sweet, seductive groans.
My phone went off.
“Leave it.”
“The Crows are on a rampage,” I said. “I can’t ignore calls. What if someone’s hurt?”
He grabbed my ankle. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
I swatted his left cheek. “I thought I give the orders? Let go. Now.”
He did, and let me make it all of two steps.
Roan tackled me onto the bed, pulled handcuffs out of nowhere, and secured me to the bedpost. I came screaming into the pillow by the eleventh strike of the crop.
The phone call got lost in my memory after that. We messed around for hours, then passed out. It wasn’t until my midnight snack in the kitchen, eating ice cream out of the carton in Roan’s sleeveless shirt, did I remember.
It waited for me on the nightstand. I tapped it awake and Gold flashed on the screen.
My heartbeat skipped.
Henry said he’d call when he had news. It had been less than forty-eight hours. What did he find so soon?
I went outside to listen to his message.
“Miss de Souza, call me back as soon as you get this. I mean it. Don’t worry about the time.”
I called him back immediately.
“Hello?”
“Miss de Souza.”
“Please, call me Rainey.”
“Rainey,” he corrected. “It’s late and I’m certain you don’t need the preamble, so I’ll get right to it. You’re right about this starting with your grandmother.”
I hadn’t realized I was still clutching the ice cream till it splattered on my feet. “What? How?”
“I started from the beginning, as you suggested. AgriProspects was the company you knew about because they were up front with their menacing and harassing. Others hid behind paper.”
“Hid behind paper?”
“I found multiple suits and claims against Abigail de Souza. Some citing animal cruelty. Some child abuse and neglect. One went so far as to say she was mentally unfit and needed a court-assigned guardian to handle her affairs.”
“She what?” I cried. “That’s insane.”
“It is,” he said, voice hard. “This is above and beyond, Rainey. It’s obvious someone was gunning for her relentlessly. Half of these accusations would’ve landed her in jail, and you and your sister in a foster home. Most importantly, it would’ve gotten you all off the farm.”
“But why? It’s nothing special,” I half shouted, tears welling in my eyes. “It’s just a fucking farm!”
“We’re not seeing the whole picture yet, but we will. That’s why I said to call me back any time. I’m in my office right now, going further up your family tree to the initial land sale. Maybe there’s something at the start of this. Another party involved who was cheated.”
“And the great-great-great-grandson decided to even the score? This farm’s been in my family for six generations. It’s ours.”
“I don’t have the answers right now, but I will,” he said calmly. “We’ll figure this out.”
“The answer is with AgriProspects, isn’t it? Were they behind the lawsuits against Gran?” I asked. “And how did we get on their radar? I’ve always wondered that. Can you look into a connection between the company and someone here in Bedlam?”
“What kind of connection?”
“A law firm. An accounting firm. A CEO who’s the long-lost brother of our old neighbor, Silas. There’s a reason they came after us and everyone seems to know it but me.”
“I’ll look into it,” he replied. “You said right now the farm is up for sale. Give me the name of the estate agent, and I’ll find out if any companies have approached her with an offer.”
“I can tell you what Cruella won’t. Steven Ellis is buying the farm. We have a contract that he’ll transfer ownership to me the day the sale goes through.”
“A contract? In exchange for what?”
“I have to do a job for him,” I said simply.
“Would you mind faxing me a copy of that contract?”