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“I’m listening to the messages,” I announce, moving from messages to my voicemail. “If you don’t want to hear them, I suggest you leave for a bit.”
“Like fuck we’re going anywhere,” Riggs reacts, crossing his large arms over his chest and staring the phone down in my hand. Rhys nods his agreement, his detached cop face in place.
Hitting the call button, I get to the oldest messages first, listening to just the sound of Kevin’s heavy breathing through the phone. Based on the breathing speeding up and the context of the one message, I gag at the thought of what he’s doing on the other end. The next few are much the same, but with some added moans that sound far too close to my name. After a dozen messages listened to and deleted, they change to angry ranting then to creepy singing that makes my skin crawl.
“Little Layna sitting in a tree,
K I L L I N G,
first comes torture,
then we’re all bloody,
then comes my dick in her dead fucking bo—”
Hanging up the phone quickly, I turn and throw it hard against the wall in the kitchen. My skin crawls and my chest tightens as the rhyme runs through my head over and over again. That was far more disturbing than I could have ever dreamed it would be. Sure, he left a dead body for me to find, but hearing what exactly his fucked up fantasy is with me was too much. I thought his father was really bad, but he definitely takes the nightmare crown on this one.
“Change my number,” I whisper, staring at the broken, smashed phone on the ground in front of me. “I’m going to go get changed for the gym. I need to fucking hit something and imagine it’s that motherfucker’s face.”
Without waiting for a response, I walk back to the bedroom I’ve been occupying for the last week. Maybe I was right to not get out of bed for so long. This is too much for one person to be able to handle. If he gets his hands on me, that’s game over. He’s made it abundantly clear that I will not be making it out of this alive.
Taking deep breaths, I try to find my calm, angry demeanour. This fear flooding me is exactly what he wants. Those messages were to make me terrified of him, make me weak and vulnerable to his antics. Staying calm and getting back into the headspace that helped me kick that incel asshole’s butt the night before I came here. After the last Jennings asshole I dealt with, I made myself a fucking fighter that could take care of herself. It’s about time I bring those skills back out to help me now. Kevin Jennings Jr is not only threatening me, he’s threatening Riggs, Rhys, and Adam. If he thinks he can lay a fucking hand on any of them, he has another thing coming.
The palms of my hands press into my eyes as I force away all the images that were so colourfully placed in my mind. It takes a few more minutes for me to be able to think without the fucking rhyme playing in my head. If he wanted to unnerve me, he definitely managed to do it. That said, he probably didn't count on his threat to my men fuelling a rage inside of me that burns away every other emotion the more I think about it. Those men have given so much to me, they've helped me start to connect with the person I am past all of the trauma. They've shown me empathy, compassion, and earned my trust. No one, and I do mean no one, threatens my men. He fucked up, and I'm going to enjoy the look on his face when I take him down.
Death would be a kindness to him. He needs to rot in a solitary confinement cell for the rest of his pathetic fucking life, and I'm going to help put him there. All those women he hurt and murdered deserve to have justice. It won't bring them back, it won't undo the tragedy of what he did, but it'll make him suffer.
Throwing on my heavy workout gear, I stuff a small backpack with some gym essentials and head back out to find Riggs and Rhys. There's a punching bag that will look mighty good as Kevin Jennings, and I'm looking forward to working through my thoughts and anger as I kick the shit out of it. One day it'll be the real deal because I know he won't stop until he gets his hands on me, and when it happens, he'll realize the fucking mistake he made. His father sculpted him into the psycho he is, but his torture also sculpted me into the warrior I am. One Jennings made me a victim, this one is going to regret trying to do the same.
Chapter Six
Adam
“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell Kenneth to schedule his group therapy for an hour later, that way the noise from the repairs won’t impact them at all. We just don’t have the space to put them in a different room right now.” I look at the time on my bluetooth dash for the fifteenth time in the last thirty seconds. Jade keeps rambling over the car speakers about the repairs at the community centre. “Look, Jade. They need to be done one way or another. They have time to come in on Friday and do them so that’s what we’re doing.”
“Fine. If it cuts into my painting time with the kids, though, I’m gonna be pissed.” She huffs on the other end, the sound grating on my nerves.
“Sure thing. I’ve gotta go, I have a prior commitment that I can’t be late for. If you have any other complaints, write them down in an email and send them to me that way.” My eyes roll when she sighs again, her attitude wearing down my patience quickly.
Hanging up the phone before she can get into anything else or complain about how email is so impersonal or some shit, I turn up my music and head towards the gym. Riggs is there with Alayna right now, but he has to run and pick up his sister from her class and bring her to pick up her car at the shop. Lay is apparently super zoned into her work out, and after the shit they let her see from Stalker Fucker, none of us want to interrupt that.
When Rhys and Riggs called me to give me a heads up about what’s been going on, I jumped at the chance to take over for Riggs at the gym. Lay shouldn’t be alone right now, and I could use the adrenaline release as well. Rhys will be joining us there in about an hour, after he talks with Jarrod about what’s going on with Lay’s case.
My phone rings again, Riggs’ name popping up on my display. Looking at the time again, I groan as I realize I’m about five minutes late.
“Hey, dude. I’m just turning onto the street. I’m like a minute away,” I say quickly, picking up the speed a little bit to shave even a few seconds off of my time.
“Okay, cool. We’re over by the weights and punching bags,” Riggs responds, his voice nearly a whisper as to not disturb the other people.
“Be there soon.” I hang up just as I see the parking lot for the gym up ahead.
Tapping my fingers anxiously against the steering wheel, I curse the red light that has the street backed up. Being late fucking irks me something fierce, especially when it means I’m letting one of my brothers down. They need to be able to rely on me and know that I’ll be there when I say I will be. Lay needs to be able to rely on me too.
“Thank fuck,” I mumble to myself when the light finally turns green. Longest fucking light change of my life.
Pulling into the parking lot, I grab the first spot I see near the back of the lot. Changing before I left the community centre was probably for the best since now I can just grab my bag and head straight for Riggs and Lay. Walking away from the truck, I fumble with my keys and toss them into the bag. Running late has me feeling all sorts of out of whack.
The gym isn’t overly busy in the main area which makes me think the extra cars are for classes of some sort in the building. It makes it easy to spot Riggs at a weight bench just off to the side of the punching bags where a very sweaty Lay is kicking some serious ass. My eyes take in her form, appreciating her movements and strength. Not to mention her hot fucking body, holy shit.
