Page 55 of Depraved Truths

Tess smiles, sinister and cold. “He will be soon.”

The gravity of the situation hits Wilson all at once. His eyes harden, and there’s no remorse or guilt in them. No emotion at all. We’re standing here with a psychopath in the most literal sense.

“I’m not telling either of you shit,” Wilson grits through clenched teeth. The anger in his voice is raw, and the defiance in his posture is unmistakable. He’s not going to crack.

Tess must have come to the same conclusion as I have because before I can say a word, a single gunshot rings out.

The force of the round knocks Wilson backward, and he clutches his chest, blood spilling out. He goes down with a shocked expression, and as he opens his mouth to speak, Tessa silences him permanently with a bullet through his forehead.

Chapter 37

Glancing at Eli, I try to gauge his reaction. Killing Wilson might have been a bit rash, and I’m still expecting Eli to walk away. Any sane person would. “He wasn’t going to tell us anything. I doubt they used him for much more than muscle. Our best chance is Dalton.” What I see makes my stomach flip. His eyes are filled with an unmistakable hunger as they scan me, moving deliberately from head to toe, and a familiar warmth spreads across my skin, igniting a flush that I’m unable to hide.

“Damn, Little Killer. You continue to amaze me.” His heated gaze locks with mine. He's turned on right now. A shiver runs down my spine as heat floods my core. I can see his cock, rock hard.

“Down, boy,” I tease, laughing as I give him a hard kiss. “We have things to take care of first.” Dancing out of his reach, I carefully slide Dalton’s gun back into a plastic bag.

Eyeing Wilson’s car, I look back at Eli. “Okay, here’s the plan.”

As I pull out of the driveway, I take a sharp left toward the interstate. Frowning in disgust, I eye the old food containers and bottles littering the passenger-side floorboard. I roll down the window, trying to air out the stench and the wind hits my face, tangling my hair. With a deep inhale, I embrace the cool rush of fresh air.

After a couple of miles, I pull onto the side of the road. It's still pitch-dark, though dawn is edging closer. With latex gloves on, I retrieve the gun from the bag. Making sure no one’s watching, I toss the weapon into the trees. Dalton’s prints and gunshot residue are on it, and now some of that residue is on the steering wheel of Wilson’s car.

I climb back into the car and head to my next stop. Turning up the radio, I blast an old country song. The words are ironically fitting—revenge against a man who harmed women. Wilson had this coming. A world without him is a better place, especially for the girls he trafficked. And God knows whatever else he got into given the company he keeps.

Coming up on a steep curve, I force my muscles to relax and press the gas, feeling the car’s power beneath me. I close my eyes and silently pray to any God willing to listen as I ready to act on my plan.

I leap from the car, landing hard on the pavement as the red car crashes into the side rail and tumbles down the embankment. My shoulder throbs, but I rotate it slowly, testing the range of motion. It doesn’t feel dislocated, but I can already tell it’s going to leave one hell of a bruise. My shirt is torn, the fabric jagged where it’s been ripped. I brush off the dirt, wincing as I do, and quickly scan myself for any other injuries. A few scrapes, but nothing too serious, and Iexhale in relief. This part of my plan was impulsive, but some of my best ones have been. There’s a thrill in taking risks, even if it means facing the consequences later. I take off on foot, heading a couple blocks away, knowing I’ve got only a few moments of darkness left. Just north is an old mechanic shop, I scan the area for cameras but find nothing. Moving toward the back of the shop, I toss the gloves into the dumpster.

I pull out my burner and text Eli to pick me up. While I was setting up counter-forensics, Eli drove the boat back to his house, careful to wipe away any traces of our presence.

Moments later, he pulls in with his lights off and I grin. Only an ex-military, born-and-bred country boy could pull that off.

“What the actual fuck, Tessa?” His eyes assess my torn clothing as he reaches out, touching my cheek. I feel a stinging sensation. A piece of gravel must have scratched me.

“I’m fine.”

His expression tightens with concern. “You’re bleeding. What happened? Where’s Wilson’s car?”

“About half a mile back,” I say evasively.

“Do I even want to know?”

“Nope.”

We slip away quietly before any early morning workers arrive, and once we’re back at my house, I make my way downstairs to check on Dalton. Taking in his haggard appearance and bloodshot eyes, I can’t help but smirk as I turn off the music. I guess that’s enough torture for today. There’s always tomorrow, and my man is waiting for me upstairs.

As I enter my bedroom, exhaustion hits me as the adrenaline that had been coursing through my veins ebbs away almostinstantly. I collapse on the bed, and Eli’s arms wrap protectively around me, and within moments, I succumb to the peaceful embrace of sleep, the world outside fading into nothingness.

The shrill ring of my phone wakes me. I roll over to answer it. “Hello?”

“Tess, I’m being discharged today. Can you pick me up?” Allie’s voice sounds small, unfamiliar. Not at all like the strong woman who has been my best friend for ages.

“Of course. What time do I need to be there?”

Allie rattles off the details, her words short and to the point. “Okay, I’ll see you soon, Alls. Thanks.”

I hear the click of the phone as she hangs up, no other words. Sighing, I roll onto my back to face Eli. His eyes are alert, meaning he overheard.

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