Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 845(@200wpm)___ 676(@250wpm)___ 563(@300wpm)
And then it hit me.
A solid piece of reality.
My heart jackhammered as I typed in the code, already knowing it would grant me access.
It’s your heart followed by the date below it.
He never confirmed it, but I knew it was the day his mother had been killed.
A surprised gasp left me when it granted me access, and I realized there had to be a hundred different files inside.
Different than in every other folder that I’d clicked into the moment Silas had originally left me with this laptop, though I’d given up halfway through since there was nothing of value. Assuming they were all the same and contained old invoices, I’d never opened this one.
I clicked into a random file. It was just a regular Word document. In every way, it appeared inconsequential.
Somehow, I knew it was not.
It was a date and a town in central California.
I fumbled for my phone and inputted both into the search.
The results populated, and there was a news article that stood out above the others.
Eight men found slaughtered at a house on the outskirts of town.
My spirit stretched taut like a rubber band, and I inhaled a steadying breath and clicked into another.
Another document.
Another date and town.
Seven men. All dead. Their murders remained an unsolved mystery.
I clicked through more.
More dates and towns.
More dead men.
All with suspected ties to criminal organizations.
Mafia. Cartels. Gangs.
My blood sloshed, a flood that I could feel gushing through my veins.
I knew.
Of course I knew, and I promised him that I didn’t care, but seeing this threw me off balance.
Shuddered through me on a torrent of uncertainty.
It was the whys that made it so hard to comprehend. No longer could I fathom Silas a cold-blooded killer.
Then there were different documents.
Money.
So much money.
Money so different from the shop money I’d been tasked to track.
Millions and millions.
No documents to indicate its origination or its destination.
Just numbers without dollar signs, though instinct told me what they represented.
I wondered if stacks of cash were buried at the back of the property with a heap of bodies.
I thought I could handle it, everything that Silas was, but right then, my stomach was revolting.
Bile climbing my throat as the horrors were marked like lashes across my conscience.
How deep did this go?
How far?
How horrible?
I attempted to tamp it back. Come tomorrow, Silas would explain and everything would be okay.
Or was I only lying to myself?
Falling for a killer and pretending like all was fine and dandy?
No big deal.
Is this how decent people were led astray?
The icon flashed again, and I knew there was a new document being saved to the folder.
Everything trembled.
My hands, my spirit, and my heart.
So far, I’d avoided the ones that had come in today.
Maybe some part of me was aware they were going to change everything.
Maybe instinct told me this new awakening would be crushed at its conception.
I glanced over my shoulder again, even though I knew Silas wasn’t anywhere around, the power that normally radiated in from the shop silenced in his absence.
The entire place was eerily quiet. The only sound was the raging of every one of my senses.
Each one hollered inside me. A brutal clanging as I clicked into one of the documents, which was another simple Word file.
I frowned when I read the two sentences the file contained.
It has to happen. Too much liability.
I blew out a sigh, realizing I’d clicked on a random one, so I reorganized the files in descending order so the newest would be at the top, then glided the cursor down to the first one that had been sent this morning, simply saved as “D”.
Change of plans. He has to go.
Those two sentences made my organs feel like they were being ripped out of my body.
My mind was quick to add through the clues.
D: Dereck
Change of plans: The promise Silas had made.
He has to go: Death.
Silas wouldn’t though. I knew him. He would never do that to me.
I was jumping to conclusions. I had to be.
I clicked into the next, not even sure who was saying what, but somehow knowing this was a shared folder and two people were having a conversation.
Are you sure? Intel says he’s a go.
The next.
It has to happen. Too much liability.
Hand barely cooperating, I flicked into the next.
This isn’t normally the way you play.
I know, but there’s too much riding on this. The guy’s a liar. A rat. And you know what we do with those.
Trembles rocked through me as I clicked into the last.
Understood. I’ll see that it’s done.
A blade of misery stabbed through my middle, and I nearly bent in two. A sob clung like a blob of poison at the base of my throat.
How could he? How could he do this to me?
I thought…I thought…
I beat the agony back into submission.
I didn’t have time for a broken heart. Besides, I was the idiot here. He already told me he would ruin me.