Page 108 of Torched Spades

It’s taken two decades, but my mother’s killer’s warning has finally come to fruition.

The first kill shot punishes the sinner.

But it’s the second that pays the sin.

Chapter Thirty-Three

JOHNNY

My phone ringsfor the third time, and it takes everything I have in me not to answer it. Trying not to picture Becca’s face, I deny the call and toss it onto the passenger’s seat.

Unfortunately, silencing her call doesn’t silence her voice.

“You loved this woman.”

Her words echo in my head on a continual loop as I pull into the parking lot at the Port of Providence. They’ve been the four words consuming my every thought since I walked out of her place. I’ve tried to block it out, but it’s no use.

As much as I tried to shield her from the truth—to do my best to warn her to stop searching for answers she doesn’t want to find—she pushed and pushed until I cracked. I gave her the words she needed to ruin both our lives.

I told her about Victoria.

The woman I fell in love with and then sent to her grave. The woman I was so obsessed with that I ignored every warning. Her death could’ve been prevented, but I put my wants and needs ahead of everyone else’s.

And now history is repeating itself.

That’s why I left her.

This whole time, I thought I was the snake and Becca was the rose—that I was the wicked temptation that would destroy her. But I was wrong.

She’s the forbidden apple.

One taste and I almost ruined both of us last night. I came within a whisper of telling her the truth—of laying all my cards on the table and pulling back the curtain on who I truly am.

The real reason I’m in Providence.

The real reason I was arrested for arson.

The real meaning behind the ace of spades.

But then she mentioned Victoria, and all the destruction of my past life collided with my present. Owen was right all along. I never should’ve made that deal with her.

And we never should’ve crossed professional lines.

But it’s too late for should’ves. There’s too much blood on my hands and too much deception to worry with truth and regret. The entire reason for being in Providence has been compromised.

I’ve never been one to run from danger. It’s not in my nature. I came here to dig a grave. Now that the dead has risen, it’s time to stop following orders and start giving them.

Tonight will be my last night in Rhode Island.

Tomorrow, I take matters into my own hands.

Dragging myself out of the Impala, I slam the door and make my way toward berth six. A few feet away from the warehouse, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I start to ignore it, but then I remember the frown on Becca’s sleeping face as I kissed her goodbye.

Before I can stop myself, I’m dragging it out of my pocket and pulling up my messages. Only it’s not Becca.

It’s Owen.

Jack Ledger is missing.