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“The charity,Mon Châtiment,is owned and operated by my mom’s neighbor, Mr. Graves. I helped him set up the charity before I left for college. Are you telling me that Mr. Graves is the one who’s stopping me from working? He was the one who talked me into returning here. You must be mistaken.”
“Tessa,” my dad said, getting to his feet, then kneeling before her. “Sweetheart, who is this Mr. Graves?”
“He was our neighbor. Had been my whole life. He looked after me and mom. He always helped mom out when money was tight. He is the closest thing I have to a father. What’s going on?”
“Storm?” I growled.
“On it, Prez,” the brother stated, rushing from the room.
“Someone better tell me what the hell is going on,” Tessa angrily said. “Because there is no fucking way Mr. Graves would ever hurt me. He wouldn’t. He loves me. He loved mom.”
“What is Mr. Graves first name?” Mercy asked.
“Benson. Benson Graves.”
Snoopy shot to his feet, the rolling chair slamming against the back wall. “Benson Franklin Graves?”
“Yes.”
Snoopy turned to my dad, who slowly stood. “It can’t be. We killed him. I shot him three times. I watched him die.”
“I checked him myself, Prez. There was no pulse,” Popeye added.
“Son of a bitch,” Happy cursed.
“Find the motherfucker. Now!” My dad roared as the Retirement Rejects all turned to leave the room. Slamming my hand on the table, I roared. “You three fucking walk out of this room and I will strip the brand right off your backs with my bare hands.”
The Retirement Rejects slowly turned and looked at me.
Narrowing my eyes at the geriatric assholes, I asked, “Who the fuck is Benson Franklin Graves?”
Chapter Twenty-One
Tessa
It was a mistake.
It had to be.
There was no way Mr. Graves, my sweet, caring neighbor, would ever hurt me. I knew it. Believed it to be true. The man loved me. He would rather die himself than see me hurt. Montana had to be wrong.
“Mind some company?”
Looking up, I shook my head as the club’s bartender, Silver, sat down next to me. The second Montana learned his father knew Mr. Graves, he cleared the room, and I was told to wait in the rec room for him. He dismissed me as if I was an afterthought.
“I brought you something to drink. Thought you could use it,” she said, placing a teacup and saucer before me.
Smiling, I whispered, “Thank you.”
Picking up the teacup, my hand shook, sloshing the hot tea on my hand. Grimacing, I placed it back down on the saucer with a little more force than I intended. I couldn’t do this. I had to warn Mr. Graves. Whatever was going on, he needed to be cautious.
“Hey,” Silver whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”
Shaking my head, I wasn’t so sure. When I heard Snoopy and the other Rejects say they shot and killed Mr. Graves, fear rose from within me. The callousness of their omission was shocking. To take another life without forethought or care was something I was unfamiliar with. I mean, I’d seen many people die in my line of work, but my job was to save lives, not take them. Logically, I knew I couldn’t save them all. But life was precious. To just take a life, to wipe it from the face of the earth as if it were nothing, was something I couldn’t comprehend.
I swore an oath to save lives.
Not kill them.
