Tethered Bond

Текст добавлен: 3 октября 2016, 19:23

Текст книги "Tethered Bond"

Автор книги: Emma Hart

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“Do you think you could pick him out in a crowd? Or even a lineup?”

She nibbles at the corner of her mouth. “I’m real sorry. I don’t think I could. He was tall and had blond hair. That’s all I know.”

I feel dejected yet uplifted at the same time. “Thanks, Demi. I’m sorry to drag you here for such a short chat, but this helps a lot.”

She smiles. “Don’t worry. I just hope that who did this is caught.”

“You and me both.”

“This is insane,” Bek whispers, clutching my arm. “We don’t have a right to be here.”

I frown at her. “We’re not breaking into anyone’s trailers. We’re just asking.”

“And you promised you’d bring Mike or Dean!”

“Oh, I lied. Bite me. I have my gun.” I shake it off and continue walking.

I want to talk to Eddie Roy. I’m really hoping he’s back now because I want to figure out what the hell is going on here. I’m confused as fuck, and well, if he went into Dina’s apartment after Alistair, then I’m assuming he’s a murderer.

Maybe I do need some man backup.

Wait—no, I don’t. Just because I possess a pair of tits and a vagina does not make me any less of a man than a man.

Technically, I guess it does, but who likes to get technical?

Jason’s words come filtering back into my mind, the ones about him thinking Eddie has a criminal record. I pause while I mull this over. Is it overkill to get Carlton to search this? No, I don’t think much is overkill right now.

I text him the request—to check in all fifty states. I know I’ll be waiting a while, but whatever. Something is better than nothing.

“Trust me,” I whisper to Bek, squeezing her hand as I approach the trailer Jason and Eddie share. I knock on the door three times and step back.

No one answers. I knock again, and again, nothing.

A squeak erupts from Bek. I turn, instinctively reaching for my gun. I’m happy I wore my shorts and my flowy tank because they make for easy Glock grabbing.

When I turn, I stare into the eyes of Jackson Bullock. His arm is wrapped around Bek’s chest and he has the barrel of a handgun pressed against her temple. His eyes are cold, his body rigid.

It takes everything I have to ignore my best friend and focus on him.

“Not your usual, is it, Jackson?” I ask him coolly, staring into his eyes.

“You know nothing,” he hisses, pressing the gun harder against the side of Bek’s head. To her credit, she doesn’t tremble. She doesn’t move—and I know why.

Her hand is flattened against her stomach, and her own gun is tucked against her hip, also hidden by her shirt.

“Put it down,” Jackson stutters. “The gun.”

“Put yours down,” I counter. “Go ahead. You drop it and I’ll drop mine.”

He doesn’t move. Good and bad, I suppose.

“You’re not a killer, Jackson,” I say softly. “You’re not evil. You won’t hurt her.”

“How—how do you know?”

“How do I know?” I relax my gun just a little. “Because you’re scared, honey. Look at you. You’re shaking. Your whole body is about ready to combust with fear. You can’t pull that trigger. Come on. Drop it and come with me. I just wanna talk to you is all.”

“No, you don’t. You think I did it. You think I did it. You think I k-killed all those g-girls.” His eyes fill with tears.

My heart clenches as reality sweeps over me. “You didn’t want to, did you?”

“I d-don’t know w-what you mean,” he shudders out.

“All of them… You didn’t want to poison them, did you?” I bluff. “But you were scared. Toni was the first, wasn’t she?”

He shakes even harder.

“Honey, it’s okay. You can tell me. I want to help you—I swear. I want to make this better for you. Just please let my friend go.”

“Jackson,” Bek breathes. “Jackson, are you listening to me?”

I breathe in deeply as he nods.

“She means it. We want to help you, sweetie. We know who’s done this and we want to keep you safe. It’s not your fault. You were forced into this.”

God, she’s good.

“No one is blaming you. The best thing you can do is come with us. We can keep you safe,” she continues. “Please? For your mom?”

With those final words, he breaks down. The gun, with its safety still intact, falls to the floor without discharging. Jackson drops to his knees and buries his face in his hands in anguish.

“Talk to me, Jackson. Help me. I need your help, honey,” I plead with him. “I know you know. Tell me who did this?”

All I get is a cry full of pain.

The door to the trailer slams open behind me, and I turn, my gun focused on the person.

Eddie Roy. And he’s holding a rifle.

Aimed right at my forehead.

Dear God, get me out of this, will ya?

“You’re gorgeous, Noelle,” Eddie Roy hisses. “But entirely too fuckin’ nosy.”

“I have to agree. On the nosiness. I’m like a dog with a bone when I get something in my head.” I tap my temple. “It’s a curse.”

So is having a gun pointed at you, apparently. One I have hanging over my head.

“I believe it,” Eddie responds. “I knew you were trouble the first time you ran into me. As ditsy as a fuckin’ field full of daisies.”

“That’s offensive,” I argue. “I’m not ditsy at all. Just clumsy.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, but it’s evil. Cold. Spine chilling. “How about you’re clumsy enough to fall into one of my bullets?”

“In a sec,” I say, holding my finger up. “Why’d you do it? The girls? Why’d you kill them all?”

A flash of black hints from the other end of the trailer, and I know we’re not alone.

Jason. Alex. Whoever he is today.

“Why would you kill them? What did they do to you, Eddie? All but one were kids,” I continue. “Did you even feel guilty as you made Jackson poison them? How about as you raped them? How about as you carved satanic runes into their skin? As you stabbed them to fucking death? Tell me, Eddie. Did you feel anything at all?”

I know I’m riling him. I know I’m pissing him off, and I’m baiting him deliberately. I have a sick thrill running through my body right now.

“Did you enjoy their delusional cries of pleasure as you abused them? How about their screams as you stabbed the hell out of them? Did the devil make you do it, Eddie? I want to know.”

“Noelle,” Bek whispers. “Stop.”

A hand with a thumb up pokes out from the end of the trailer.

I’m definitely not alone, and I should definitely get the confession we need.

Time to piss him off even more. And to think—I had no idea being so annoying would ever be this useful.

I tilt my head to the side and put my bottom lip out. “What’s the matter, big man? Fucked up enough to kill a bunch of girls but too pussy to admit it?”

“Shut your bitch mouth,” he finally growls, his gun still pointed at me. “You know nothing.”

“I know you have a record.” Here I go, bluffing again. “I know the semen samples match yours. I know there’s DNA that matches yours. I know you’ll be arrested any moment.”

He laughs. Wildly. “You think you’re so smart. You think you have it all figured out, dontcha?”

I take a few steps back, and he jumps to the ground. The rifle is still trained on me, and my Glock is still trained on him. It’s a scene more worthy of a movie than my little town.

But, by God, I’d fucking die to protect every single person in this town.

And that’s it, isn’t it? I’d take a bullet for everyone I love without thinking about it. That’s exactly why I’m baiting him, why I’m teasing him… Why I’m walking backward.

I’m pulling him away from the best friend anyone could ever wish for.

I’m putting her in safety and myself in danger.

Good thing danger is my middle name.

“Yeah, I know it all,” I tell Eddie. “I know how you lied to everyone. How you forced Jackson into giving some people belladonna. I know how you rallied Alistair and the two of you raped and killed girls in your sick rituals.”

He laughs. Again, it’s wild and chilling and downright terrifying. “Alistair? Alistair?” He laughs harder, almost dropping his rifle. He sobers instantly. “It wasn’t Alistair, you silly whore. It was Damien. He’s a dumb fuck.”

Damien? Damien?

“Your nephew,” I breathe. “He’s who I heard the night y’all broke into my house. It’s why I couldn’t place his voice.”

“Clap fuckin’ clap,” he drawls. “You heard my bitch of a nephew panic. Course we didn’t know you had a fuckin’ gun, did we?”

I grin. “I have three. Sur-fuckin’-prise, asshole.”

“Noelle,” Bek whimpers.

“You look put out, Eddie. What’s the matter? Not used to a poor, little woman outsmarting you? Pissed that I foiled your great plan to rouse the devil?” I lift an eyebrow. “Guess what? The devil is a lie. He’s a story. He’s a nightmare made to give kids something to fear.”

“He’s real!” he roars. A vein bulges in his forehead, and his grip tightens on his gun. “He’s real, and he’ll come to me if I let him!” He cackles with laughter. Crazy, unstable laughter that makes my skin crawl. He stops and tilts his head to the side, his eyes chillingly focused on me. “Four more. Tick tock. You’re next.” He lifts the gun so it’s sure to hit me square between the eyes.

My heart beats ridiculously fast. Fear-riddled adrenaline is sweeping through my body with speed of a comet slicing through the night sky. It only makes me bolder. Makes me stronger.

Jason steps out from behind the trailer, his own gun pointed at Eddie.

I ignore him and meet Eddie’s cold eyes. “Tick tock.”

Then two guns fire.

My bullet flies into his lower leg, and another hits him in the shoulder. The second comes from the person I least expected.

Jackson.

The rifle falls to the floor. It discharges, a bullet smashing through the window of the trailer adjacent to it. I storm forward and kick the gun away of him as he moans in pain. Jason rushes forward, but I shake him off, and with my gun pointed at Eddie’s face, I step on his hand. He cries out in pain, and it’s a sweet revenge.

“Oh, Eddie,” I say softly. “You’re right, honey. The devil is real, except he is a she, and she is called Noelle Bond, motherfucker.”

With that, I kick his hand away and look up at Jason.

“Nice work, Ms. Bond,” he says, dropping to his knees and pressing his shirt to Eddie’s shoulder. It’s bleeding more profusely than his leg—I think my shot barely scraped him.

“Thank you. Now, can someone please call Drake and co. then get me the fuck outta here? I don’t feel like dying at his hand today.”

“Too late,” Drake growls, storming toward me.

Oooooeeee. I’m in trouble.

“I told you to bring Dean or Mike! Fuck it, Noelle! You could have died yet again! Do you have any regard for your safety at all? Do you ever fuckin’ stop to think about what you’re doin’ to the people who love you, you crazy fuck?”

“Oh, shut up.” I grab his shirt and pull him into me, kissing him hard. “Go arrest your goddamn murderers and quit whinin’. I’m goin’ to get a cupcake. Bek?”

Bek looks at all of us, her gun still in her hand. “I—yeah. Sure. What the hell. Why not?”

I have to admit that I’m torn about getting this solved before family dinner. On one count, I’m glad that I get to sit down in the comfort of my parents’ house and eat Nonna’s awesome lasagna without getting interrupted, but also: Gio.

I’ve been filling Dad in on the case for the last hour. He demanded every detail, right down to how I figured it out.

I have to admit that I never did. I didn’t know until it was right in front of me.

Eddie Roy was taken to the hospital with gunshot wounds—I really have to stop putting myself into those situations—and Jackson was arrested. Damien Roy was found trying to skip town after driving out in a stolen vehicle and detained.

I guess the IQ apples didn’t fall from the Roy tree at all.

It took a while, but Eddie admitted to killing Dina, too. In a funny-yet-sick twist of fate, he turned out to be the other guy in Dina’s life. Apparently, their affair had been going on for years.

Anyway, he’s now in the hospital after having Jackson’s bullet removed from him and under armed guard. I understand the alarming trend this is starting—I am, after all, three for three—but let’s not get too judgmental, yeah? Yeah.

Damien Roy turned out to be the blond guy Demi had seen Annabelle with. Not Alistair as I’d initially assumed. Alistair’s semen samples were rushed in the light of the arrests and came back negative for matching the ones of the victims. It’s almost as if he were used as a kind of scapegoat for her murder by the way Dina was killed almost immediately after he’d left her apartment.

It all boils down to the fact that we have three killers for six bodies, one scapegoat, and a huge case spanning three or four Texan towns all wrapped up with a pretty bow. Jackson agreed to hand over all the details and admit everything in exchange for a plea deal.

And Sheriff Bates decided that everyone should be stewing in their, and I quote, “bitch-ass cells for a few hours while we all breathe easy.”

I can’t help but agree. Which is exactly how Bek and Jason have ended up at the Bond Family Friday Night Dinner.

“You really have to step your game up,” Drake mutters, spearing a piece of shrimp with his fork. “This is good.”

“I will poison you, Nash, so help me,” I bite back, stealing a shrimp from his plate and shoving it into my mouth.

Okay. That’s real good.

I do have to step my game up.

“Pew pew!” Silvio shrieks, pointing his fork around the table. “Pew pew pew pew!”

“Sil!” Alison snaps. “Your fork is not a gun and you are still not getting the Nerf back!”

“Mamaaaa,” he whines.

“No,” she replies.

Trent winces, and she glares at him.

Dad leans forward, looking around conspiratorially. “Come see me after dinner.” He winks.

Alison glares.

“I found-a you-a a cake-a!” Nonna announces to Amelia and Dev.

Amelia stops eating, her fork poised between her plate and her mouth. Strings of spaghetti slither off. “You did?”

“Si!” Nonna exclaims. “Is-a lovely. Is-a white, elegant, just-a what-a you want-a.”

“Okay,” Amelia replies quietly, a smile touching her mouth. “I’d love to see it after dinner.”

I blink quickly. Wait. What was that?

“Liliana,” Mom says from the end of the table. “This pasta isn’t cooked right. I told you that you didn’t have time to make it from scratch for everyone!”

Nonna lets out an annoyed stream of Italian curse words. “Oh, you be-a quiet!”

Aria giggles. Jason pauses, his eyes flicking between the two of them. Dad ignores it as Mom responds.

“It’s hard! Look at it! It’s like granite pasta!”

“Fuck,” Brody mutters.

Bek covers her eyes with her hand.

“Is-a not hard!” Nonna cries. “Look! Is-a perfect! You—you screw-a with me!”

I reach for my glass of wine. And it’s empty. Oh yay.

Drake leans toward me. “Please, please, please learn to cook like this so we don’t have to listen to this circus every week.”

I drag my teeth across my lower lip. “It’s real cute that you think I’d be excused from this. You know Trent and Alison have been married almost ten years and together for fourteen, right?”

He sighs heavily and grabs his beer bottle. “I can see myself taking up alcoholism just to survive this weekly craziness.”

I grin. “Welcome to the family, Nash.”

The smirk that tugs his lips up is amusing. “Oh yeah. Did I tell you? My mom is coming home in September. First time in three years.”

I pause. The last time I saw his mom, she was dressed in a hula skirt for my mom’s birthday party four years ago and she was wondering very loudly when Drake would get married.

“Oh boy,” I reply, looking right at him. “Should we run away now or later?”

“Don’t worry,” he mutters, touching my back. “She despises Jessica. I think it’ll be better than you think. At the very least, you’ll have a bitching buddy.”

“It can’t be worse than this,” I reason, glancing at the women at the ends of the table.

Mom and Nonna are firing various insults back and forth in both English and Italian.

“Can it?” I ask.

“I sure hope not.” He laughs.

“Cazzo!” Gio squawks, flapping his wings. “Quiet!”

Mom and Nonna both stop and turn toward the bright-green bird.

“Gio!” Nonna gasps.

“Cazzo!” he repeats, wings flapping again. “Quiet, I say. Quiet!”

I hold my wine glass to my mouth. “You know,” I say, “I might just like that parrot after all.”

Gio turns to me and fixes one of his beady, black eyes on me. Then he wolf-whistles. “Hot wench. Hot wench!”

Dad roars with laughter, and within seconds, everyone except Silvio, Aria, and Nonna are laughing.

I grab a spoon and throw it at the cage. “Oh, shut your beak!”

Gio squawks with displeasure at my attack. I stick my finger up at him behind Bek’s back, where the kids can’t see.

Drake wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into him. He’s shaking with laughter, but the rich sound of his chuckles are warming to me. “Would it make it better if I said you are a hot wench?”

I turn my face to him, failing to fight my smile, and look down. “You’re an idiot,” I mutter fondly.

He kisses the top of my head and whispers, “Love you, too.”

I glance up, and for this second, just this moment, silence lingers. Questions have been answered, justice will be served, and happiness reigns above all else.

And perhaps, right now, when he replies to my veiled I-love-you in a way I’m sure no one else ever could, that’s all that truly matters.

Me, him, and my crazy-as-hell family.

And yes. Even the parrot.

Mark your calendars for TIED BOND, book four, on February 25th! Pre-order available across all retailers soon.

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Read other books by Emma Hart.

Emma Hart is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of sexy new adult romance novels, including the Call series and the Game series. By day, she dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops it, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

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TETHERED BOND (Holly Woods Files, #3)

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