Page 55 of Red's Revenge

“Jeremiah,” I spit the name out in disgust.

“He should really learn how to disable his tracking system. Thanks to him, I have audio and video of them discussing Cami if you decide to turn them in to the police.” I shake my head.

“No? Good, I’ll bring smores to their funeral then.” Knight slaps my shoulder.

“We ready then?” I grab Betsie and nod.

“Cyrus is mine. It’s about an hour’s ride, so let’s mount up.” The bar is empty as we make our way outside.

The parking lot, however, is full of bikers.

“Y’all can’t be here,” Clayton calls out.

“We ain’t. Just checking which way y’all are riding.” I frown at the biker talking to Clay.

“East, why?” He crosses his arms as slowly all the bikers in the lot turn their bikes west.

“Cause we’re going start trouble in the opposite direction. You shouldn’t have any problem from the cops tonight.” The man turns his eyes on me and nods before taking off.

“Let’s do this.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

RED

We tie up our horses in the woods and creep onto the property from the east side of the cabin.

Jeremiah’s shiny electric sports car gleams in the moonlight.

“Cutting power in two minutes,” Cannibal says into an earpiece he handed me right before we left.

I glance at Pa and Clay, who are to the right of me as we make our approach. Knight and his three men are on my left. We left the others with the horses as backup while Cannibal and King stayed back at the bar.

We watch in silence as the porch light goes out.

A few minutes pass, and Elijah comes out the back door to start the generator. I’m ready for him when he bends over to pull the cord.

I give him a maniacal grin when he sees my face.

“What are you doing?” He stumbles back from me.

“You took something that belongs to me. Something that wasn’t given freely.” I growl as I swing good ole Bertha high andlet the bat clip his chin so hard he flies up in the air and falls a few feet ahead of me.

Jeremiah comes out to see what’s going on, and Clayton tackles him to the ground, pinning him down by his neck.

“Now, hold on.” The grumble comes out muffled, I’m sure, from the branches and leaves he’s probably choking on.

“Did you stop when she was begging you?” I kick his head like I’m trying out for the Texans.

Then Cyrus comes rushing out. The moment he sees me, he pales.

“Justice, please!” He puts his arms out in front of him as if that’ll stop me.

“Justices aren’t merciful, especially to men who hurt women. So start praying to whatever Lord you believe in ‘cause you’re about to meet him.” I raise the bat as he stumbles on the back steps and falls pathetically.

“Wait, I can make this right!” Pa lets out a loud, humorless laugh at his words.

“Can you now? You got a time machine? How are you going to change the fact that you raped my wife?!” My echo rings out around us, and I dare any man here to correct my statement.

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