Page 72 of Wayward Souls


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“I think so. Spe- Aria,” he chuckles, bringing his beer to his lips. “Wait, so are you gonna tell me why the name change? I mean, I gotta say, Spencer suits you way better.”

Clicking my tongue, I look down at my empty glass.

“That’s a story for another day.”

Chapter twenty-two

Travis

I’ve told myself repeatedly that we have bigger fish to fry than this little bitch fiancé of Spencer’s, but the idea of him out in the world, walking, talking, and fucking breathing is a sick form of torture. The thought is like a pesky gnat that just won’t go away no matter how many times you swat at it.

So, it’s time to solve the problem.

I woke up this morning before Spencer, and decided it was the perfect opportunity to set the wheels in motion. I called Riot to come stay with her. Placate her. Give her a fun day, on my tab, hang out, and most of all, be on high alert. Grant Maddox is out there, and I still don’t know what he wants. What his end game is. I don't want her at her house like a sitting fucking duck. I trust Riot with my life, therefore, I trust him with hers too.

Leaving my bike, I opted to take my BMW instead. Can’t transport a fucking body on a bike. Not that my M5 is all that much better. It does at least accommodate another body though. If I’m going to keep this shit up, I’ll have to invest in a fucking SUV.

I'm not even sure why I was shocked that Liam wasn't sober when I made it to his apartment this morning. Asshole was already three sheets to the wind when I slipped through his window. Freshly home from a work trip and already plastered. The bottle of rum sat on his nightstand, open and half empty, while he sat on the edge of his bed in a drunken stupor. He never even saw me coming. Not when I crawled through the window from his fire escape. Not as I slowly crept up behind him. And damn sure not when I pressed the chloroform soaked rag to his face.

Pacing the floor, I look my prey up and down. Liam is chained to a chair, not far from where my good friend Jimmy sits barely clinging to life. I’m growing tired of waiting for this asshole to wake up though, so I crack my knuckles, cock back my fist and nail him square in the fucking nose. His body jolts and he comes to with a shriek, looking around the room with an expression of confusion as blood pours from his nose.

Looking down at himself, he realizes the predicament he’s in, and he begins to thrust his shoulders forward, trying to free his arms, but they are chained up behind him, intertwined with the chair that’s bolted to the concrete. Fucker isn’t going anywhere.

When he finally realizes his fate, he stops struggling and he looks up at me.

Does he fucking remember me? I hope he does.

“Where? Who?”

His eyes flicker back and forth in confusion, and there’s a certain level of terror weaved throughout his expression.

“Well, well, look who decided to join us.” I clap my hands together and squat down in front of Liam. Grinning ear to ear, I turn my head and look over at Jimbo who’s hanging on by a thread, “Hey Jimmy boy. You have a new roommate for a while.”

Turning back to Liam, I chuckle, “Remember me fucker?”

I give him a minute. I can see the wheels turning. His eyes widen and it's evident the moment it all clicks and falls into place.

“You’re the guy from the engagement party,” he gasps.

“Ding ding ding! We have a fucking winner folks!!”

“W-what do you want with me?” he stammers.

I laugh and push up to a standing position, towering over him.

“What do I want? What do I want?” I turn my head to the side, “Can you believe this shit Jimmy? I think he wants an explanation, but he’s playing stupid. He knows why the fuck he’s here.”

“L-let me go, you can, you can have her. Just let me go. I don’t even want the whore, j-just let me go.”

Fury seeps into my field of vision and I step right into him, gripping the back of his hair and tilting his face up to look me dead in the eyes. Rage crawls underneath my skin, infecting every cell in my body. I reach behind me with my other hand and pull a gun from the back of my waistband.

With an audible click, I switch the safety off and raise the barrel to his temple.

“Oh shit, oh shit,” he whispers, as he pisses himself.

“What the fuck did you just call her? Didn’t you learn last time?”

“I’m s-sorry. I - I’m sorry.”

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