AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“So I think that’s about it.” She turns back to me and gives her first smile, as though proud she completed the tour. “That’s our gym. I grew up in this place, so it’s kinda special to me.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yeah. My mom started dating my dad when I was two.”
“When you were two? Your dad ain’t your dad?” I already know the answer to this, but I’ve long wondered what she knows to be true.
“Not biologically, but he’s better than that. Biggie’s my best friend. He’s strict as hell and more stubborn than me, but he’s the best man I know, and if he didn’t marry my mom already, I would marry him.”
My lip curls back. “You wanna marry your stepdad?”
She laughs. “Not in the weird, incestual way. I’ve wanted to marry him since I was a toddler. He’s the perfect prince, so you can bet, when I do marry someone, they’re gonna have to be better than Biggie.”
“Tall order?”
She gives a confident nod. “So tall, it’s in the next stratosphere. Okay, let’s go back in and get start–”
“So if Aiden Kincaid isn’t your real dad, who is?”
She takes a step back and shrugs. “Um… Some dude named Sean. He’s in prison now, rotting away, and hopefully being violated on the regular.”
“You don’t know his last name?”
“Oh, I do,” she waves me off. “My parents don’t lie to me, so I know everything about him. I just choose not to use my brain space on him when I have so much math homework waiting in my locker. Come on, so we–”
“Wait. You’re only a teenager, right? Sixteen?”
Her eyes narrow with suspicion. “Ya know what? I never said I was sixteen. And while we’re on that subject, I never said Aiden was my daddy. That’s two for two, bub. What’s your deal?”
“You… what? Yes you did. You said Biggie.”
“There are three Kincaid brothers, so it could have been a lucky guess, but I never said Aiden was mine.”
She forces me to make my move. Her bad attitude and general suspicion forces me to do this when it could have gone down easier if only she’d dropped her attitude.
“That’s because he’s not yours.” I release the door at my back, and while my hand is behind me, I pull the pistol from the back of my shorts and swing out so fast, that platinum blonde hair flies and slams against the ground as the girl drops with a heavy thud.
Hurrying, I push the teen’s limbs in close to her body and prepare to carry her to my car just outside the gate she just opened, but then the door opens behind me, and my body goes into panic mode.
This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.
I swing around with the butt of my gun, using it as a hammer that I know hurts, and hit meat and bone as a body slams to the gravel just beside the teen, and the door is once again released and closed.
Libby Tate, dressed similarly to Evie in gym clothes, lays out beside the girl, with blood sliding over her sharp cheekbone from a cut shaped just like the handle of my gun.
I was coming for her later, but this will do.
These idiot women walk straight to their captor. Eyes wide open and muscles still singing from a workout, they walk straight toward their death.
