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“How’d you find us?”
“Seriously? That’s your question?” I ask.
“If I’m gonna go down, I deserve to know where I fucked up.”
“You fucked up the second you set your sights on Purgatory,” I snap. “But as far as finding you, that was child’s play.”
“How? We’re damn good at what we do.”
“At stealing, maybe,” I concede. “At hiding, not so much.”
“Then tell me how,” he insists.
I heave a sigh. “Satellites and heat signatures.”
“What?”
“What can I say? The club has connections.” I smirk. “And our hacking skills are a million times better than his,” I say, tipping my head toward the dead man. When Waylon stares at me incredulously, I explain further. “With the satellite, we were able to track your movements. It made sense that you wouldn’t be too far from where Skye was abducted so we focused on the surrounding areas. Your friend also used his alias when he registered this trailer… not the brightest bulb, that one.”
“Son of a bitch,” Waylon mumbles.
“After that, we hacked into several systems that utilize heat signatures for fugitive capture. This is the only domicile for miles, and the scenery outside the window that Skye was sitting in front of for the ransom video was matched via Google Earth. It might have taken more time than I liked, but it wasn’t all that hard to track you down.”
“Wow,” Skye says appreciatively. “The club can do all that?”
I smile at her. “Saints Purgatory can do anything.”
“Good to know.”
“So, Waylon, are you prepared to die?” I ask as if murder is an everyday task for me.
“Yes,” he says, but his voice shakes and betrays his fear.
“Liar.”
“Does the truth matter right now?” he asks.
“The truth always matters.”
“Then here’s some truth,” Waylon sneers, seemingly no longer caring if he pisses me off. “Skye was an easy mark. She’s gotta be the dumbest chick I’ve ever met. As for Purgatory… that was easy too. For a while at least. The money we would’ve gotten from you could’ve set us up for a long while. Had everything gone according to plan, we’d be long gone, and you’d never know what hit you.”
“But things didn’t go according to plan,” I remind him.
Waylon glares. “No, it didn’t.”
“And now you’re gonna pay the ultimate price.” He says nothing, having accepted his fate. I turn to Skye. “You have anything to say before I end this?”
She moves closer to Waylon, her knife gripped tight in her hand. “I’m not stupid, motherfucker,” she growls right before shoving the blade into his groin.
“Remind me never to piss you off,” I joke, my voice raised so she can hear me over Waylon’s shouts.
Skye glances over her shoulder and grins. “I can do that.”
I cup my junk as if to guard it against her wrath. “Thanks.”
After she pulls the blade from his body, she shifts to the side and cocks her hip. “Your turn.”
I step up to him and press the barrel of my gun to his forehead. “Any last words?” I ask, and Waylon shakes his head.
