Page 92 of The Cruel Heir

Never get involved in things that weren’t clean. That weren’t honest. That weren’t mine.

I went south. Changed my name on the lease. Paid cash. Got a job doing urgent care for small towns with more pickup trucks than people. Quiet work. Boring work. No questions.

But I still hear it.

The beep-beep-beep of a flatline.

The sound of my gloves slipping in blood.

The way Sterling looked at me, when I said, “I don’t know if I can save her.”

You don’t walk away from a man like that.

Not unless he lets you.

And the Kingsleys don’t let anyone go.

So I wait. Every day. For the phone to ring. For the knock on the door.

For the debt to come due.

But if it does, this time, I won’t run.

I’ll be ready.