Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Everyone accounted for.
The explosion was loud, and Jasper shouting “fuck” over and over was muffled to my stinging, ringing ears. Bonnie’s questions about the source of the explosion might as well have come from a mile away.
“Stay. Down,” I told her and stood, my eyes seeking out Jasper.
Our leader.
“Let’s go!”
I saw his lips more than heard the words, but I stood and followed my brother to the entrance of the restaurant to see what the fuck was going on, and more importantly who had enough fucking balls to interrupt an Ashby family gathering.
“What the fuck?”
The ringing started to fade, and Jasper pointed to the parking lot and that fucking green Lambo.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
I told Jasper how Bonnie thought she imagined seeing someone standing beside Kat’s car.
“We thought it was just the neon lights reflecting off of the car. Fuck!”
“That’s not what matters right now, Cal.”
Jasper’s voice was even and surprisingly calm as he stared at the burning Lambo, the flame reflected the white-hot anger burning in his eyes, and the tense set of his jaw.
“Yeah? Well what matters, Jas?”
“Sometimes we get it wrong and that’s okay,” he said, his words slow and methodical as a figure appeared behind the burning car. Jasper lifted his chin, toward the figure coming into view, the light from the flames slowly bringing his features into focus.
“But sometimes you just have to fucking listen to what people are trying to tell you.”
I turned to face my brother, his tone foreign to me, the family still shouting their confusion right behind us as we stood just inside the doorway. Jasper’s words sounded a lot like regret.
“What are you trying to tell me now, Jas? I’m listening.”
“Look, goddammit! I should have listened to you sooner and none of this would have fucking happened.”
I looked at the source of my brother’s anger and frustration, the regret he felt as the tall orange flames revealed the angry, half-burned face of a very much alive Brendan fucking Rhymer.
“He’s alive.”
“Not for fucking long,” Jasper growled, brandishing his favorite Glock before he stepped outside.