Total pages in book: 188
Estimated words: 182255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 911(@200wpm)___ 729(@250wpm)___ 608(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 911(@200wpm)___ 729(@250wpm)___ 608(@300wpm)
The bastard wasn’t getting another chance to get away. Justice had come for the son of a bitch, and Seth had appointed himself judge, jury, and executioner.
He let the sounds of his family fade behind him. What waited in front of him was unfinished business.
He turned his focus on Gene, his voice cutting through the room like a machete. “Matt. Nik. Pat that motherfucker down. Every inch. I want to know if he’s hiding so much as a fucking toothpick.”
Matt dropped to one knee. As he began running his hands over Gene’s legs, the prick thrashed and kicked at him. Nik growled and put a boot on Gene’s forehead, pinning the asshole into place. When Matt started skimming his torso, Nik flashed a taunting smile and aimed his gun straight at Gene’s face. The prick glared, but didn’t dare move.
“Clean,” Matt said finally, stepping back.
“Thank you.” Seth turned back to the other men in the room. “Carl. Hudson. Take the women upstairs. Lock the door and turn on some music.”
His son looked confused. “Music?”
Seth nodded. “Loudly.”
Understanding crossed Carl’s face. “On it.”
“Hold up,” Seth called out, glancing at Nik. “He needs a gun. Got an extra?”
The Russian didn’t hesitate. He reached behind his back and produced a Glock 43, offering it to Carl grip-first. “Is loaded. No safety. Point. Shoot.”
Carl gripped the weapon, with a nod. “Thanks.”
Nik inclined his head.
Seth nodded at his son, then told Carl, “If anyone other than me, Matt, or Nik comes through that door upstairs, kill them. No questions asked. Clear?”
“Absolutely,” Carl assured. “Come on, everyone. Let’s go.”
Hudson started to protest, but Heavenly wrapped an arm around his shoulders and shook her head, guiding him toward the stairs.
But Seth’s mom stood like a statue, her furious gaze locked on Gene. Finally, she addressed Seth. “What are you going to do?”
He swallowed tightly. When he’d gone dark and disappeared for a year, she’d never once asked where he’d been or what he’d been doing. Had any of those questions rolled off her lips, he would have lied and taken all the sins he’d committed to his grave.
Now she was asking for the dark truth.
This time, Seth refused to lie.
“As long as Gene is alive, he’ll put his criminal enterprise over his badge and keep killing. He murdered Dad to protect his operation. He murdered Autumn and Tristan to cut me off at the knees. He tried to have me killed this morning to silence me. He took you and the people we love hostage an hour ago.” Seth’s jaw tightened. His nostrils flared. “He even tried to end me after being subdued. As long as he’s breathing, he’ll keep killing. So I’m going to do what needs to be done.”
His mother’s lips trembled. Tears filled her eyes. But her voice didn’t waver. “Send him to hell.”
Seth blinked, stunned.
His devout, Catholic mother—who prayed the rosary daily, who believed in forgiveness and God’s will—had just given him permission to execute a man.
Gaze fierce, she stepped closer and placed her hand on his arm. “He doesn’t deserve your mercy, Seth. He deserves your justice.”
Seth’s throat tightened. He nodded once, unable to speak.
She squeezed his arm, then turned toward Carl, who stood waiting at the foot of the stairs with Hudson and Heavenly.
His angel’s face was pale, her blue eyes wide and tear-filled. She looked terrified—not of Seth, but for him. For what he was about to do. For what it might cost him.
He held her gaze, but didn’t speak. He let his face tell her what she needed to know.
When this is over, I’m coming for you.
She didn’t ask questions, just pressed her lips together and nodded. Then, with her heart in her eyes, she sent him one last look before turning away.
Clutching the gun in his hand, Carl rushed everyone upstairs. When they reached the top of the landing, Seth winced. “Wait! Mom, maybe you should, um…toss down some towels.”
“Nyet,” Nik insisted, holding up a hand. “I have plastic sheet in car.”
Seth turned to him, one brow raised. “Of course you do.”
Nik shrugged. “Much cheaper than cleaning crew.”
Despite everything, Seth almost smiled, then hollered up the stairs, “Never mind. We got this.”
As Nik pulled out his phone and typed a quick message, Seth watched Carl usher everyone inside the master bedroom. Then, with a nod Seth’s way, he closed and locked the door.
Less than a minute later, one of Nik’s dangerous, tattooed henchmen stepped through what was left of the splintered front door. He silently strolled into the room carrying a neatly folded, dark blue industrial tarp and handed it to Nik before disappearing outside again.
Matt grabbed one end of the plastic. Nik took the other. Together, they spread it across the living room floor.
Seth turned to Gene. “On the tarp. Face up.”
Gene didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just glared.
Seth bent, muscles flexing and burning, as he grabbed the shitbag by the collar and tossed him onto the plastic. Gene landed hard on his back, the air punching out of his lungs in a grunt.