Page 85 of Saving the Last Heir
“I’ve had your best buddy followed. So far, the only thing he’s done out of the ordinary is go on a date. My guys say she was a hot little piece, too. Unfortunately, your boy wasn’t able to close the deal. Went home alone.” Joseph chuckled dryly. “Damn wyrms don’t even know how to get their dicks sucked from a whore.”
Whore?Fresh rage surged within me. His mother must be so proud of the man she raised. Prick.
His words did more than anger me, though. It showed that we’d done this the right way. Theywerewatching Christian. I’m sure they wanted to follow Jackson too, but with his ability to fly anywhere, that was basically impossible for them to do. This confirmation of what we believed gave me hope that we’d thought out the rest of our plan correctly.
“Is this call nothing but you trying to chew me out for not going fast enough?” Jackson asked. He glanced at me, and from what I saw in his eyes, he was thinking the same thing I was.
“Basically,” Joseph said. “Jacky boy, you don’t want to piss me off. I don’t like waiting. I want to look in that little girl’s dead fucking eyes before the weekend. Got it? Otherwise I’ll have my cook bake a fucking cake using your sister’s egg for the batter. I’ll draw a big cock on it with icing and send it to you. Get the goddamn thing done. Trust me, the first one is always the hardest. After that? Killing gets easier. It’s like a callus. It builds up over time. Fuck, I could smack a baby with a hammer and notblink an eye. All that to say, I’ll kill your sister with my own bare hands if you don’t get this done. Bye, Jack.”
The call ended then, leaving us both standing there in silence, shocked at the sheer audacity and animal savagery of the man.
“He’s a monster,” I whispered.
Jackson nodded. “Feels like that’s not a bad enough word for what he is.”
“We can’t let this guy figure out what we’re trying to do. We’re dead if he does.”
Jackson looked at me, his eyes stony and solemn. “We wouldn’t be the only ones dead. A guy like him? He’ll go scorched earth. Our families, our friends. He’ll tear it all apart and leave a trail of corpses in his wake. It’s why I didn’t want to involve you in any more of this. I’m a piece of shit for asking, and I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said. “We’ve been over this. You didn’t force me to do anything. I’m here because I want to be.”
“I appreciate that. I’m still sorry, though.” A grin tugged at his lips. “You can’t stop me from saying it.”
“No, but I can keep telling you not to say it. We’ll see who gets tired of it first,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Come on, let’s get back to work on this car.”
We worked hard, going over every change and addition multiple times. I plugged the tuning computer into the wiring harness below the steering wheel and punched through the settings to ensure all the systems were talking to each other properly. It should have been done with the car on a dynamometer, but I didn’t have an extra forty thousand dollars to buy one. The closest one to us was booked solid and wouldn’t be able to getthe car back to us in time. Without that to measure torque and power, I’d have to eyeball it. Thankfully, I was confident in my skills and sure I had all the systems dialed in.
“Shyanne?”
I didn’t look up, keeping my eye on the screen. “I want to go over the ABS system one more time to make sure it’s the way I want it.”
Jackson chuckled. “You’ve already checked that three times.”
“Can’t be too sure.”
I yelped in surprise a second later when Jackson yanked the small handheld computer from my grasp.
“Hey! I’m not done with that.”
Jackson looked at me like I was crazy, then gestured at the car. “You’re done. You did it.”
Instead of arguing, I let out a heavy breath and sagged in the driver seat. “Really? You think so?”
“You would know better than me.”
“I guess I am done,” I said, looking around the car with wonder.
There wasn’t a time in my entire career that I’d gotten a quality job done so quickly. Pride and relief swept through me, and the weight of what we were trying to do lifted the tiniest bit.
“Want to go grab dinner?” Jackson asked.
Hadn’t wejusthad lunch? Frowning, I glanced at my watch. No, it was past five. I’d gotten so wrapped up in my work that the dayhad gotten away from me again. At the sight of the actual time, my stomach gurgled with hunger.
“I guess so,” I said.
I unbuckled my work belt and hung it on a hook. When Jackson and I stepped out of the paint room, we found the rest of the staff sweeping and cleaning up.
We pitched in, winding up pneumatic tool hoses, plugging in cordless batteries, and wiping down counters. Twenty minutes later, the guys left, and my vague hunger had turned into a clawing, ravenous desire for food.
