Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
And strutting around as if they were badasses.
Four of our uncles made up the board for the business, but I decided there was only one that I needed to talk to for my information.
I shot off a text after I searched his phone.
Crispin: I just heard some shit about a contract on Jake’s head. Wtf, dad? Do I need to know something?
Uncle Toby wasn’t tech-savvy so I held up my gun and moved back to Crispin, tearing off the tape. I spoke through his howl. “Your dad’s going to call you in a moment, and you’re going to say whatever the fuck you need to say to find out who put a contract on my head. You got me?”
“You fucking—”
I took the safety off and pressed it harder against his temple. They didn’t know the lengths I could go. No, that wasn’t correct. They knew the lengths I went to, to protect my brother, but I was thinking they needed a reminder.
He shut up, but his eyes narrowed. Confusion showed.
“I mean it, Crisp. I went through your messages. I know you got a little girlfriend in Jersey and I’m guessing there’s a reason you’re keeping her a secret. You want to keep her secret, you play ball.”
His eyes continued glaring before looking down to where Penn was lying.
Oh. I’d just outed him.
I shrugged. “We’ll work something out with him.”
He continued seething at me.
I ignored him, saying, “I don’t have to time to be fucking diplomatic here. Someone’s trying to kill me. You help me find out who that is so that I can put a bullet in their head or you don’t. If you choose option two, trust me, I will have no problem taking down every single family member with me. You get me?”
I stared at him, hard. Letting him see just how far I was willing to go, and if that meant putting a bullet in each of my uncles’ heads, in each of my cousins’ like him, I had no problem doing that. When he stilled, and swallowed, I finished, “Are you in or out? Your dad is going to call any second.”
Fury showed before he banked it and slowly nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll ask him.”
The phone began ringing.
“You do what the fuck you need to get the answers. You got me?”
He nodded again, this time quicker, so I accepted the call, putting him on speaker.
He coughed, clearing his throat. “Hey—”
“What are you playing at? Sending that shit over text? Have you lost your damn mind—”
I moved the gun so it was directed at Penn, who froze when he saw the move.
“Dad—Dad! Shut up.”
There was a beat of silence, but Uncle Toby was not one that you told to shut up.
“Listen here, you little piece of shit. You—”
“Who’s trying to take out Jake?”
Silence again. “Why the fuck do you care about that fucker? He’s a traitor. Who the fuck cares—”
Crispin paled, cursing under his breath. “Dad!”
There was another moment of silence.
Uncle Toby was the keeper of all the secrets. He knew everything, and since I didn’t have time for a trip to Maine right now, his sons were the closest way to get those answers.
“Dad, there’s a hit on Jake.” Sweat poured down Crispin’s face. He needed to blink a few times as some of it went over his eyes. His voice was raspy, strained. “Who put it there? I gotta know. I gotta . . . He’s in the city, Dad. Are we in danger? What’s going on?”
My cousin truly sucked at being an actor.
“Why?” His dad’s voice dipped low. Also hoarse. “The fuck are you asking this shit? What are you playing at? You know we don’t give a shit about that kid.”
Kid. I stopped being a kid when he put a gun in my hands when I was twelve. When he told me I needed to learn how to kill a man. My dad found out two years later what Uncle Toby had me doing, shooting men for him, but the damage was done. I had already been turned into an executioner by then.
That was when my dad stepped away from the family business. It was the first rift among the brothers.
Maybe that was the beginning of the end for the Worthing Mafia.
“. . . he’s going to be taken out and you need to just shut your fat fucking mouth until then. You hear me?” He didn’t wait, bellowing, “You hear me? You answer me, boy!”
I pulled the phone away from my cousin. The frustration that had been rising in me began to morph into a calmness. It was somewhat nice. Serene. It was a dead feeling of calm.
I continued listening as my uncle confirmed every single one of my suspicions. He was saying, spewing into the phone, “Calling me and asking me about family business. You don’t fucking do that. You know better.”