Page 141 of Not A Whisper

Anger knots my stomach. Unable to stomach looking into his guilt-ridden face, I bury my own into Jason’s shoulder.

“When I told Garry nothing came of our interaction,” Lance continues, “he forced me to move into your building so that I could keep an eye on you. It was only to watch you, and I thought that was easy enough. I didn’t know why or what hewas using the information for, but he was forcing me, threatening my daughter’s life and?—”

“He was being blackmailed by Garry who was forcing him to do his spying,” Jason summarizes, fed up with the storytelling. “Apparently, Lance here, draws the line at kidnapping and murder, but arson and spying seem to be fine. He helped his buddy Woody set Trip’s place on fire.”

Lance’s shoulders hunch. “If I didn’t, Garry would make it so I’d never see my daughter again. Woody didn’t tell me there were people still inside the shop. We circled back around so Woody could slash your tires so you couldn’t come after us, but I didn’t realize you’d gone in. I’m sorry. You don’t know how truly sorry I am. Are you ok?”

“Does she fucking look ok?” Trip demands, coming out of the shed looking furious. Still dressed in his tux, he looks magnificently feral. He shoulders Lance as he passes the big guy and storms toward us. “Jay, you feel well enough to drive our girl to the hospital? Grant and I are going to wait for Garry. It’s time to give him a piece of our mind.”

“Yeah, I think whatever I was drugged with has worn off,” Jason gives a tight nod.

Jason was drugged too? Is that why he was missing for so long earlier? My grip tightens on his shirt in fear. Where was he? How did the others find him? My head swims as fear for him nearly chokes me. Too bad we’re not in the clear from this nightmare yet.

Slowly, I lift my head to meet Trip’s hard gaze as he ducks down into the car to look at me. His dark brown eyes soften ever so slightly.

“T-t-t-he other-r-r-r guy might-t-t come b-b-b-b-a-c-k.”

He snorts, a hard twist of his mouth isn’t quite a smile, but he looks pleased all the same. “He’s dead.”

Dead? I blink rapidly, trying to wrap my head around theword. Trip must see the confusion on my face because he chuckles.

“Seems you got him good before he dumped you. Whatever you stabbed him with hit a vital organ. His SUV was in a ditch about a mile from here with him slumped over the wheel.” He jerks a thumb behind him. “All that blood out here and inside must be from him. Remind me never to piss you off when you have something sharp in your hand.”

I don’t have it in me to feel anything other than a mild relief. At least that’s one less person to worry about.

Grant hurries out of the shed, dressed now, and equally as furious as he glares at Lance before coming over. Rather than coming up behind Trip, he rounds the back of the car and opens the door on my other side. He slides in and slams the door shut. Before I can force myself to sit upright, Grant wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his side.

“He doesn’t get to touch you and get away with it,” Grant snarls, both his arms twisting around my body to hold me close. I lean my head against him, cherishing being in his arms. By some miracle, I’m alive and with my guys once again. There’s nothing else I could possibly ask for at this moment.

“W-w-what are you going t-t-o do?”

“I don’t know yet. We’ll play it by ear.”

There’s a shuffling noise on the other side of the car before Trip says, “Go wait inside, I can’t stand the stench of a rat so close to my girl.”

“Right, well… I’ll let you know if Garry says anything else,” Lance mutters.

When the sound of his footsteps disappears, Trip squeezes himself into the backseat of the car with us before shutting the door. I shiver hard as the vehicle immediately warms back up. Grant’s hand rubs up and down my arm in an attempt to help defrost me.

“We have Woody’s gun, Grant,” Trip starts. “We could?—”

“Shut up, Trip,” Jason snaps, cutting him off.

A wretched chill runs down my spine. Was Trip going to say what I think he was going to say? As if answering my question, Trip says, “Let’s just do it. Garry doesn’t deserve to live.”

Jason snorts. “Yeah, ok, like we could coverthatup.”

“We’ll figure out a way,” Trip insists. “But we need to end this shit now before Garry can try anything else. We got lucky tonight, so fucking lucky. But our luck isn’t going to hold out. Garry will just keep coming for us until Grant’s his little lap dog again. We can’t just bank our future on ‘luck’.”

I squeeze my eyes shut to block out this nightmare of a conversation. Are we really talking about killing someone? Isn’t one death tonight enough?

“I’m not saying I don’t want to see him dead!” Jason snaps. “All I’m saying is that covering up Garry’s death will be impossible.”

No one says anything for a moment. The only sound is the clattering of my teeth and short pants as I struggle to relax enough to breathe evenly.

“He’ll just keep coming for us,” Trip repeats after a tense silence.

I keep my eyes shut as panic begins to set in again. It wraps around my heart and feels even colder than the water I’d been submerged in. We can’t kill Garry. I can’t let this happen. But I have a sinking suspicion that Trip is right. Garry will keep coming. The man was bold enough to make a move inpublicthis evening. What is he capable of behind closed doors?

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