Page 111 of Danger Close

“You have everything you need here,” I kissed her forehead, needing to rise a bit off the bed to do so. “It’s time for me to let you live your life.”

Chapter 51

Sure, Let’s Go

Cobra

“You broke too many ribs,” Jericho said, staring at the x-ray Beaufort printed out.

For fun, he had compiled all the information into a single image.

Beaufort peered down at his masterpiece,and counted the breaks out loud. “He’s right. She only broke two ribs. You’ve broken five, and fractured more.”

“I’m using my artistic license!” I rolled my eyes, looking up at Raymond Clark’s nude body. We’d cut off his clothes, the shreds of it below his feet where his toes fished, trying to find purchase on the floor just a few, sad millimeters beneath his little tippy-toes.

He was strung up like a pig. He’d broken his shoulders. That wasn’t my creativity, that was gravity’s work.

He breathed harshly through his nose, blood dripping down the various wounds of his body.

Teresa had broken five bones in her time with him. I’d broken eight. That was close enough!

I recreated the scars I had memorized. Blood dripped down from the precisely placed wounds I’d put on him with a rusty blade. Not like he’d have time to die of infection.

His two friends—the two alive—had both passed out. They’d get their time in the sun, but for now, we’d put them on the backburner.

Beaufort held up the image of injuries. Daria took her long, French-tipped nail and called each one out. “Did you break the metacarpal?”

“Oh!” I snapped my fingers. “No I didn’t! Let’s get on that.”

I picked up a rubber mallet, twirling the handle in my open palm. With sadistic glee, I was about to do my work, when my phone rang.

I saw my kid’s face on the screen, and answered, “Hey, kiddo.”

“Mom’s leaving.”

“I beg your finest pardon. What?”

“Mom’s changing into the clothes she showed up with, and has asked Charlotte to take her to the bus stop.” Her voice was firm. It was matter-of-fact, but she couldn’t hide the undercurrent of panic, and hurt in her tone. “I offered to drive her to Philadelphia tomorrow, but she told me to just go on my honeymoon and not worry about her.”

“...” My silence was audible.

“Dad?”

“Stall her.”

“How?”

“Be creative, kid. Take the spark plug out of Charlotte's car and cry about vehicular trouble. Do what you’ve got to do.” I knew that Trinity would know how to do that. She did plenty of work on her own vehicles, like a real Guerro. “ I’m on my way.”

I handed Jericho the mallet. “Finish up for me.”

“With pleasure,” Jericho cooed.

Chapter 52

Take Your Time

Teri