Page 16 of Never Trust the Living (Battle Crows MC 7)

Then made my decision. “Mimi, you’re going to have to control yourself. You’re going to drop me off, then go home, because you’re driving me fuckin’ nuts. Please, for the love of God, give me some fuckin’ space.”

Mimi looked so affronted that I chose that moment to open the car door and prayed that she wouldn’t follow.

She looked at me but made no move to loosen her seat belt.

And I had a feeling I would pay for my outburst later, too.

I could see the anger in her eyes and the way she shut her mouth so completely that a thin line of red appeared where her bowtie lips used to be.

“Bye,” I grumbled, getting out of the car.

She waited half a second past when I closed the door to peel out of the parking lot. A spray of gravel lay in her wake and pinged off of my shoes.

I cursed and hurried toward the door, only to come to an almost complete stop the moment I reached it.

The girl, Dorcas, was standing there looking confused.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

My brows rose. “Is there a problem with me being here?”

She opened her mouth, closed it, and then shrugged. “I figured since you gave your testimony online via webcam, that meant that you weren’t coming in at all.”

That had been a calculated thing on the lawyer’s part. He’d thought with me being there in person, that they might see the anger in the way I held myself and be more focused on me than on the psycho.

According to my lawyer, I was a bit ‘intimidating’ and they didn’t want that issue.

Whatever.

I didn’t care.

But he was right.

Over the last few weeks of healing, and the previous beating I’d taken, my face had matured into some different lines that hadn’t previously been there.

It also didn’t help that I was six foot four and a half and had hands the size of dinner plates.

Oh, and the new tattoo I’d gotten that slithered up my neck. The words:Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand. Blood and revenge are hammering in my head.The William Shakespeare quote had been on a knife that Tide had gotten me upon my exit from the hospital. It’d been so à propos that I’d decided it needed to be embedded in my skin for me to remember every single day for the rest of my life.

One day, Amon Wheeler would pay for his sins, even if I had to slip into his loony bin in the middle of the night and do it with my bare hands.

Because that’s how I saw today going.

I knew without a doubt in my mind that Amon would be getting a free ride to the psych facility.

I also knew that he would be living a cush life, because Amon was slick. He’d get anyone and everyone on his side that was in that facility. And he would be out.

One way or the other.

Whether it was ten years or thirty.

“That was because, apparently, I’m scary. And they didn’t want the jury focusing on me and my hatred. And instead wanted the focus on Amon and what he did,” I explained as I grabbed the door from her hands and held it wider open. “After you.”

She went, but she looked like she dragged her feet the entire way to the courtroom.

I stayed on her heels since she seemed to know where she was going.

We didn’t sit next to each other, though.

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