Page 104 of Give Me Forever Love

Danny lifts his brow but shrugs. “Sweep, let the man see his teeth.”

Sweep rips off the tape and opens the guy’s mouth. My jaw clenches. It’s him. He looked me in my face and smiled before he shot me.

“That’s him.”

Danny nods. “Okay. Trig,” he says, signaling for the other man who’s standing by the back passenger door. He tosses the cigarette he’s smoking, and before I can even think, Trig pulls out some clear, thick material and puts it over the man’s head. The man starts moving like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

“What are you doing?” I ask. Trig pulls out his gun, and in the blink of an eye, he shoots the guy in the head. Gold teeth goes slack, and I turn and puke in the grass.

“What?” I hear. “I didn’t wanna get blood in my car. I just bought this thing.”

“Yo, you all right, Bryce?” Danny asks.

I wave him off and stand up straight, looking back at the men as they act like this was just another day for them.

“Hey, Bryce. You got somewhere I can put this body out at that ranch of yours?” Sweep asks as he shuts the trunk.

“Are you crazy?” I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and spit.

Danny laughs. “He’s just fucking with you.” He walks over to me. “It’s done. You don’t have to worry about those guys anymore.”

“So, you’re working with Moretti?” I ask.

Danny rubs his chin. “Yeah.”

“And you’re running drugs out of Red?”

Danny tilts his head slightly. “I’m a businessman, Bryce. You’ve known this from the start. Atlanta is a good city, and Moretti and I saw an opportunity when you got arrested. You can’t blame a man for trying to make money, even if it doesn’t fit your standards.”

I don’t respond right away. What he’s doing… everything he’s doing is wrong, but who am I to judge this man? I’ve been doing wrong for as long as I can remember. Hell, I used to be a thief when I was a teenager, making sure my brother had what he needed.

I don’t own Red anymore. That part of my life is over, and I need to finally accept that.

“Okay, you’re right.”

He nods. “You’re welcome there anytime. We’re going to get this cleaned up. You get back to your family. I’ll see ya around,” he says before they climb into the car and spin out of here.

I exhale as the moon peeks out from behind the clouds. I have a feeling I won’t be sleeping well for a while even though my family is safe now. You don’t just witness a man get shot in cold blood and be okay.

Fucking hell. I get back in my truck and head home.

Chapter Thirty- Eight

Kathrine

It’s early morning when I wake. The sun hasn’t even begun to trickle into the living room. I stretch and frown when I don’t feel Bryce beside me. I sit up and look toward the bathroom. The light is off.

“Bryce?” I call out. I throw the covers off and walk over to Rylee. She’s still fast asleep, so I let her stay that way. I head to the bathroom to wash my face, brush my teeth, and use the toilet before I change into a cotton dress and sandals.

I check on Rylee one more time and grab the baby monitor before I descend the stairs to look for my husband. Morning fog rolls across the grounds of the ranch as I walk down our drive.

Birds rustle the trees and squirrels jump from branch to branch collecting nuts. The air is already thick with humidity, and I long for fall. The coolness of an early morning, the way the leaves turn from lush green to golden rust.

I breathe in as I break from the tree line into the main drive, where there’s nothing but miles and miles of emerald pastures. I walk over to one of the horses hanging his head outside of the fence. I run my hand along his snout. The ranch is quiet today. No ranch hands working, no horses running through the pastures. I hear a sound coming from the barn, so I leave the horse and make my way over. I approach the enormous structure quietly, looking inside. I stop in my tracks at the sight before me.

The sun rises, shining beams of firelight into the other side of the barn, making sweat glisten and fog glitter. Muscles that look to be chiseled out of stone ripple with each hard blow to the bag. His face holds a frown and complete concentration. He moves around the punching bag with skill and ease.

I knew Bryce did this, but I’ve yet to see it for myself. He always goes to the gym. The bag hangs from the vault above. Bryce jabs and it bounces. He ducks and shifts his feet. Only in sweats and no shirt, his black ink moves with him. His hair is wet as sweat trickles from the ends, running down the length of his muscular back.

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