Page 20 of Ruthless Intent

“You were a constant reminder of why his parents divorced.”

“That’s not true.”

I lift one shoulder. “Why would I lie about something so easy to prove? You can find out the date of the divorce for yourself. All you need to do is check the records. You’ll find that you were three months old when the paperwork was filed.”

“You’re a liar.”

“Ask your mom.”

Her lashes lower, shielding her eyes from my view for a second, and then she’s nailing me with a glare. “If this is your idea of bringing hell to my door, you need more practice.” She spins around and strides away.

I let her go.

I’ve planted the seeds of doubt. The next step is hers. And I’m confident she’ll take it. And when she does, it will draw her deeper into my net. I’ll still get my revenge. It will just take a new form.

I wait until she’s out of view, then drop to my knees in front of Jason’s grave, breathing heavily.

Find three objects.

I look around.

A gravestone. A tree. A wall.

I take another breath.

Hear three sounds.

Church bells. Birdsong. A car’s engine.

Another breath.

Move three body parts.

Clench my fingers. Shrug my shoulders. Turn my head.

One more deep breath.

Okay. Good. You’re fine.

“Hey, brother.” My voice shakes a little as I straighten the vase in front of the headstone and rearrange the flowers inside. “They say it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission. I’m not sure I need either. I have to do what needs to be done. I think you’ll understand. It’s the only way.”

I rest my hand against the top of the marble. It’s warm from the sun.

“Peter told me that Louisa was cremated, and her parents scattered her ashes across the beach. She’d be happy with that. The beach was her favorite place to be. We made some good memories there, didn’t we?”

My cell vibrates in my pocket. I ignore it.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here. But I’m here now. I can’t change anything that happened. I can’t bring either of you back. But I can make sure people know the truth. I’m going to find out who did this, Jay. I’m not going to rest until they pay for what they did.”

My cell vibrates again. I take it out and look at the screen. Peter’s number flashes up.

“I think I’m being monitored more now than I was when I was inside.” I connect the call. “Peter.”

“Where are you?”

“At the cemetery, why?”

“There’s a news crew on its way to Whitstone. They caught wind that you’ve already gone home. Have you been home yet?”

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