Page 132 of Insidious Heart
“For the last twenty-three years.”
“Who the fuck are you?” Cal asks and I flick my eyes to him briefly.
“The Harvester of Bones. I’m the one you hired to kill this son of a bitch.”
Both men snort as Cal says, “Bang up job.”
“Yeah, I know. I shit the bed on this, but I’m gonna make it right, then I’m gonna make this fucker real pretty for his fifteen minutes of fame.”
“You know what?” Beau looks between me and Cal. “I don’t fucking think so.” Then he opens fucking fire.
The living room window explodes in slow motion as I hear the boys start to yell, as Stevie screams, “No!,”over and over again.My eyes lose focus as the sounds become muffled and echoes like my head is in a fishbowl, and for a split second—one I’ll both cherish and regret for the rest of my life—time almost stands still. I ignore my instincts, fight the urge to fire at will, the urge to snatch Stevie up in my arms and run out of this house as fast as I can before I let these feelings take over. Instead of giving in to the high that beckons me, the euphoria starting to blur the edges of my visions, I seek clarity. I look to the woman I love to ground me, to bring me back and center me so I don’t give in to the monster I really am, theghosthunting for black souls.
“Do it.” Stevie nods as Beau spins on me. “Do it, Tor.”
“Do it,”she screams, and before he can even get his gun in position, I pull my trigger in rapid succession, putting an end to Beauregard Williams’ reign of terror by painting his brain all over the living room wall.
I walk over and kick the gun from his hand, nudging him with my boot to make sure he can’t fake a gaping hole in his head, and as the room and everything in it comes back into focus, I hear my girl sobbing.
“Please,” she whispers. “Please don’t…” Cal coughs up a mouthful of blood as Stevie tries to drag him into her lap.
I stick my gun in the back of my jeans and rush over, helping my baby dove while also checking herrealfather’s injuries.
His obviously fatal injuries.
“King knows…” He coughs again. “Knows where everything is. You’ll get all the… all the answers, princess. I’m sorry.”
Awestruck, I watch from the sidelines as the boys join her, as the three of them beg and plead for their father to stay. I watch them hug his bleeding body while they weep, holding him the best they can. I keep watching as the most amazing woman I have ever met gives her real father the forgiveness he quietly begs her for, abundantly and selflessly accepting his apologies while insisting she understands.
And I watch as Cal Moreland tells all of his kids he loves them before he takes his last breath.
CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE
VICTOR
I jogdown the stairs with Stevie’s new phone and a small box from her dresser drawer in one hand, the stuffed baby doll, Jolene, in the other. They were the only things she wanted when I asked if she needed anything from her room before we left. Not that we’re leaving any time soon, but I still wanted to make sure my baby dove had everything before she and her brothers came home with me.
Putting all three items in my hoodie pocket, I weave through the maze of county sheriffs standing around the hall and foyerprotecting the crime scene,grinning to myself because aghostwalks among them.
Appropriate, all considering what just went down?
Not really, but I’m fucked up and can’t help it.
I stop on the bottom step of the porch and pull out a cigarette, surveying the half a dozen cop cars, the motorcycles, and the WKMC members that ride them while I light it. Hitting my smoke hard and dragging it deep into my lungs, I watch as Snipe chats with Judge Abernathy and the new DA, Morgan Redding, attempting to get ahead of any possible issues for the club. Not that this scene itself creates any, but I’m sure Snipe is using it to his advantage since we have a ton of audio on the sex trafficking shit and still need to get a handle on that—Beau the Butcher breathing or not.
My gaze wanders to Harlow and Sofie sitting in the back of Doc’s van with King and Prince, the two women caring for the orphaned boys the best they can while their sister, my sweet little dove, stands a few feet away talking to Sheriff Withers—who jumped from SWPD to take on all of El Paso County a few years ago—-while Doc gives her an exam.
And as I take one last hit from my cigarette and flick it, I can tell Stevie is on the verge of tears again.
“I was coming down the stairs when I heard… when I heard the back door get kicked in, I guess.” She chews the inside of her cheek as she sniffles, but when she pushes her hair out of her eyes and sees me heading her way, Stevie sighs in relief. “Rochelle screamed. She screamed and ran into the hall, but Beau… he shot her.”
The second I’m in range, I wrap my girl in my arms and place a kiss on the crown of her head as she leans back into me.
“And you are…” Withers’ pencil stops mid-sentence as he arches a brow at me. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“Tor Andrews.” I nod, my shiny new papers and ID burning a hole in my pocket. “I’m the one who shot Beau.”
His eyes go wide as he starts scribbling again. “Your relation to Ms. Williams?”
