“What did the police say?” Joey tactfully changed the subject.
“They think it was teenagers on a rampage.” She rolled her eyes again. Bullshit.
“You didn’t tell them about Peter?”
“No, I don’t have any proof and it could come back to haunt Shooter later. He didn’t say anything but there was murder in his eyes.”
“Good. I hope it’s slow and painful.” She bared her teeth.
“Josephine.”
“After all the shit Peter did to you and who knows how many others, I hope they cut off his dick and shove it in his mouth before he dies.”
“Damn, you’re bloodthirsty!” Juliette couldn’t help but smile at her fierceness.
“Why aren’t you?” Joey turned her body sideways to face her.
“Because I can’t afford to be. If I held on to the deep anger I felt for him I’d be consumed by it. I refuse to become a bitter, angry, empty shell while he sits back in his tower, lapping up my dysfunction like a cat with cream. The journey was long and painful, you know.”
Joey nodded.
“That place was dark, lonely and cold. I won’t go back. Maybe this time I won’t come out alive.”
“Jul.” Joey wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.
“I’d rather be dead than live in constant fear. This time the story needs to end with a period. The open-ended thing didn’t work too well for me last time.”
“Whatever we need to do, I promise you at the end you will be the one standing.” The intensity in her friend’s eyes turned Juliette cold. She hadn’t voiced it out loud, but she shared the sentiment. This was kill or be killed. He’d never stop. Her greatest fear had come to life in the form of his reappearing act.
“I know we’re a group of girls, but with the Lords protecting you, you know I’m not just blowing smoke up your ass.”
“I know, but it doesn’t take away the fear. I never know what he has planned next. I’m so damn pissed that I’m afraid to go to work Monday. Every second the clock ticks down panics me and I know I need to be stronger this time.”
“Honey, you are,” Joey pulled away and took her face between her hands. “It’s okay to be scared. You should be.”
Chill bumps spread across her skin like wildfire. The game had changed with the break-in. He’d gotten more hands-on. She had a feeling the big bad had descended upon her and soon she’d be caught in the eye of the storm.
* * * * *
“Your old lady has no clue what we’re up to right now, does she?”
Sho
oter glanced over at Moose and shook his head. “No, she’s too busy being pissed the fuck off right now to give a shit. I’m bunking at the clubhouse for the next few days. The break-in has her fucking off her gourd. I’m sure she wouldn’t have asked me for details even if I had told her.”
“Smart woman. I can’t really blame her for the personality transplant. This shit isn’t the norm for her. Kind of crazy really, that she came with this kind of trouble.”
“Truth.” Shooter narrowed his eyes and studied the office building where Peter worked. He put in late nights, staying long after his staff left. With Specs and Gadget collaborating they were going to kill the computer, loop the feed and allow him time to get inside and hand-deliver a message.
Curling his hand into a fist, Shooter cracked his knuckles, anxious for the secretary to leave for the night. “Is he fucking her or what?”
“I hope not. She’s old enough to be his mother.” Moose wrinkled his nose and Shooter laughed.
“Never a dull moment when you’re around, bro.” Shooter tapped the steering wheel and shifted his weight in the seat.
“I know, you’re lucky you got paired with me, eh?” Moose winked and Shooter rolled his eyes.
The front door of the office swung open and Shooter sat up straight. “Finally.” The secretary, Martha Wash, walked over to her car, got in and drove off. A few minutes later his phone vibrated. Lifting it, he grinned.