Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I turn around and see Tor groggily sitting up with her hand to her head. Four other officers are rushing toward me; two have guns pulled. I realize I may never see her again. I have no idea what's going on in her head, no idea if she'll soon accept how crazy this all was.
"I love you, Tor. It's gonna be okay, doll, I promise," I shout.
The weight of the officers slam against my back, and they tackle me to the ground. Knees dig into my back as they push down on my neck. "Don't fight. Don't fight!" they yell at me, and I give in, lying completely still on the floor.
I'm yanked to my feet; shoved and pushed in the direction of the door behind the podium. I keep my eyes lock on Tor. She's not really with it yet, but at least some of the color has returned to her face. She stares at me and fuck me, does she look broken. My view of her is obstructed when a woman, who I assume must be her sister, steps in front of Tor, glaring at me like she's trying to shield her from me. That woman fucking hates me, and it's evident by her expression.
All eyes in the courtroom are on me as I'm escorted out.
Tor thinks she just killed me because of her statement. The thing she doesn't understand is if I can't have my freedom, if I can't be with her, I'm fucking dead anyways.
"Five minutes," the bailiff says as he leans against the wall. My hands are cuffed, but I've learned over the past several weeks how to do most things with them bound like this. I'm seated in front of a thick window, and on the other side of the glass is Marney. I pick up the receiver and cradle it with my chin.
"Well, orange ain't really a good look for you, boy," his hoarse voice comes through the line.
I frown.
"Look, Marney, you make sure she's taken care of. You know where all the..." I stop myself, quickly glancing around the room. The guard's three feet away from me and I'm pretty damn sure there's surveillance in here. I guess I need to play this shit up in case they're onto Marney's ass as well. I clear my throat and set my gaze hard on him. "Make sure she has all the assets she needs." My eyebrow twitches as I stare him down, making certain he knows what I mean. I had more money than fucking Bill Gates stashed in my house and under an alias in stocks.
He nods. "Yeah, I'll make sure I find a way to help her out." Another subtle nod. He taps his fingers over the stainless steel counter in front of him. "What a shock it was to me that you got yourself all tangled up in this mess." I can see his lips straining against a smile, his voice cracking under a chuckle. "Boy, you was brought up in church. What the hell got into you? The devil?"
I roll my eyes. Fuck, Marney. Don't go over the top or anything with this shit. "Yeah, yeah. I'm an asshole, I know. Sorry to let you down," I groan. "Have you heard from her?"
"Nope. Most likely not going to." His face crumples. He'd grown pretty fond of her. He traces his finger over the counter. "Most likely not going to," he repeats.
We sit in silence for a moment. There's not much more to say at this point. Our lives are completely fucked. "Well, just make sure she has what she needs for her and the baby, okay?"
"Sure will kid."
I place the phone on the receiver, and Marney pushes away from the table, turns, and walks off. I rise and the guard automatically takes a hold of me to escort me back to my cell, but instead of taking a left at the end of the hall, we take a right.
"Lucky you, you've got visitors today," he says as he opens the door and walks me into a small room.
There is a rickety table with four chairs, and sitting in two of them are FBI agents. A bottle of water is placed in front of me, and the guard turns to exit the door. "I'll be right outside," he says as he reaches for the door. "That one there's a wily one. Angry too."
One of the agents smirks at me. "I think we can handle him."
The door shuts and both men's eyes set on me.
"Mr. Pearson, I'm Agent Tidewell, and this," he points to the man perched on the table beside him, "is Agent Wilson."
I say nothing. I just direct my gaze between the two of them and focus on the back wall.
The metal legs of the chair scrape against the floor as Tidwell rises from his seat. The heel of his shoe clicks over the concrete as he moves around the table toward me He brings himself into my line of vision, and leans down, putting his face uncomfortably close to mine. "We've got an offer for you, so I suggest you listen up." He pops his gum before straightening back up. "You are quite the career criminal. Hell, you were the number one enemy of Joe Campbell... you took down Joe Campbell." His eyes roam over me for a brief moment.