Page 91 of The Brazen One

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Atticus:Agreed. Goodnight.

I take the last bite of my taco, crumple up the foil, and toss it in the trash. If I were home, I’d be having my post-pump nightly protein shake, but I’m not home.

Not home means living.

Using my phone, I find all the information I need. Ain’t it funny how people with the most money should have the most protection, but with a couple of Google searches, they’re as visible as us common folk.

Not to mention, I may’ve been looking this guy up a bit here and there since Mom told me what Goldie told her.

I didn’t have a plan then.

This ain’t premeditated.

But each time I swiped through pages of content with his name tied to it, I picked up one more crumb. And now I've got enough to get me where I need to be.

Even now, with the wind whipping through the cab, knotting my hair, and making my nose cold, I still don’t have a plan. Not beyond gettin’ there.

I don’t have any weapons, so I know I won’t do anything too stupid. Too permanent.

* * *

Gated community.I shake my head. Self-important fuckin’ piece of shit. He’s got locked gates around himself, but he’s the goddamn predator. He should be behind bars; he’s the one that needs to be kept away from people, not the other way around.

There’s no guard shack, but I still park my truck down the street and hop the cinderblock perimeter easily, landing in a fancy as fuck backyard. I tug my beanie down, flip the hood on my sweater up, shove my hands in my kangaroo pocket, and make a beeline for the gate.

Keeping my head down, I exit the backyard and walk through the front lawn to get to the street. I pull out my phone and check his address again, and compare it to the street I’m currently on.

I picked a great spot.

He’s just one street away.

Eleven houses, if we’re getting fuckin’ exact.

I stay in the street, under the intermittent lights, away from home security cameras that I know are there, without looking. I count house numbers until the one from the screen on my phone is in front of my face.

71211 Hillside Fern.

Hillside fuckin’ Fern? Stupid street name. This entire housing development can kiss my ass, for that matter. If they’re housing this piece of shit, fuck ‘em. I spit as I pace up the bullnose-edged walkway toward his front door. Solar lights line the walk, and the overgrown island-like plants provide deep cover for them.

Standing smack dab on his porch, I knock.

There’s a ring doorbell, the blue circle swirling with life, but I ignore it. I don’t care if I’m on his doorbell camera. I'm virtually faceless with my beanie and hood, paired with the dim lights and the inky sky all around.

The door swings open, and he’s so much fucking smaller in person than I’d prepared for. He’s the smallest of all men.

I move quickly, taking just a few eager steps inside before I have him to my chest, arm wrapped around his throat as I kick the door closed. He grabs at my forearm as I walk him inside, shoving him down onto a couch as I stand over him.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he growls as his small hands grab at his neck. I roll my eyes and spit on his carpet.

“Stand up,” I tell him, and even though the guy’s face is twisted up in angry indifference, the fucker stands. I snort, then crash my fist into his face, right in the nose, knocking him back down to the couch.

Blood fills his hands as he holds them under his nose, whimpering like a hurt dog. “You broke my nose.”

“You raped Goldie Berry, took her job, and didn’t give her the severance or references she earned.” My top lip ripples with how potent my rage is, scathing and bubbling at the surface, ready to take over. “But that first one is why I’m gonna kill you.”

His hands fly up, and all air of bravado is gone, deflated, and replaced with fear. Pure, selfish fear. Even at this moment, Reynolddoesn’t carethat he hurt Goldie. He cares about himself.

“Don’t,” he breathes, his hands trembling. “You need money?” he asks, looking me up and down, trying to find some tell in my clothes that will lead him to the massive hole in my life that’s brought me to breaking and entering. Like he’s gonna solve me and this in one second.My fuckin’ hero.


Tags: Daisy Jane Romance