Page 123 of Mr. Edwards

“You’re going to believe trailer park trash over your own flesh and blood?”

My temper snaps, and I scream into the phone. “I know what you did and I’m not just talking about today you sick fuck.”

The line goes dead and that’s all the confirmation I need. I put my foot down so I can reach my destination as soon as possible.

I maneuver my car into the first available spot I see and exit the vehicle. My heart is racing from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through my body as I jog toward the entry to the hotel. The moment I step into the reception area, I scan the lobby for any sign of my uncle. I’d be surprised if he stuck around after the phone conversation we just had. He knows the jig is up, and I won’t rest until he pays for every single thing he’s done.

When I find no sign of him, I head toward the front desk. The pretty brunette gives me a complete once-over before finally making eye contact. That only seems toenrage me further. I’m tired of being objectified by women.

“Hi,” she says, giving me her brightest smile. “Welcome to the Embassy Suites.”

“I need the room number of one of your guests.” The tone of my voice has the smile instantly dropping from her face. “His name is Jason Edwards.”

She clears her throat before glancing down at the screen in front of her. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m unable to give out that kind of information.”

My eyes drop to the name badge pinned to her chest as I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.“You catch more flies with honey’, Granny always says.

“Please, Josie, it’s an emergency.”

The calmer tone of my voice seems to help. “It’s company policy, but I can call his room for you if you like.”

She reaches for the phone sitting on the desk to her right. “Don’t,” I say, placing my hand on top of hers. “I just got off the phone with him a few minutes ago. He’s my uncle, and he wasn’t in a good way, I’m worried he’s planning on hurting himself.” It’s me who’s planning on doing the hurting, but she’ll never give me his room number if I tell her that.

Josie places her free hand on her chest. “Oh, my.”

“Can you please help me?”

“I can’t give you his information, but I can get someone from hotel security to go up to his room and do a welfare check.”

“Would it be possible for me to go with them?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thank you.”

A few minutes later, I’m riding in the elevator to the second floor with a big, burly looking guy standing besideme. I give him the side-eye. He’s staring straight ahead, with a don’t-fuck-with-me look on his face. The key to my uncle’s room is clutched firmly in his left hand. He’s a damn tank, and I already know he’ll try to stop me when I lunge for my uncle, but hopefully, I’ll manage to get a few good blows in first.

My limbs are trembling by the time we reach our destination, that’s how amped up I am. I stand beside the guard as he knocks twice on the door.

“Mr.Edwards,” he calls out when there’s no answer. We both stand there waiting until he finally knocks again. “Mr. Edwards, this is hotel security. I have your room key; I’m going to enter.”

He doesn’t even get the card in the slot before we hear a loud crack coming from the other side of the door, closely followed by a thud. I went hunting enough when I was a boy to recognize that sound, and since a bullet didn’t penetrate into the hallway, I can only surmise its target. That thought is confirmed the moment the door is open and I see my uncle’s twisted body on the floor with a pool of blood starting to form around his head.

Fucking coward.

Chapter 29

Carlee

“Hey, are you awake?” Reece calls out before rapping his knuckles on my bedroom door.

“Yeah,” I answer, rolling over in bed.

Although I’ve barely left my room in days, I haven’t slept much either. My mind is still clouded by my mother’s death, and surprisingly by Jason’s suicide. I thought his demise would bring me peace, but it hasn’t. Not in the slightest. I’m not sure why.

“Are you decent?”

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. Dipping my chin, I spy the sauce stain on one of my favorite T-shirts, I’m a mess, but at least I’m covered. This shirt is one of many I stole from Grayson while we were together. I have a drawer full of them. They’ve been my chosen sleepwear since we’ve split. It’s no compensation for the real thing, but having a small part of him with me gives me comfort.