Page 119 of Tempt Her

Gentry did it.

He took these women.

I didn’t sleep last night. I sat in the parlor, acting like I was reading a book while I hid a butcher knife under the throw pillow. I couldn’t focus. All I thought about was surviving the night.

Luke kept texting. Mateo too. They have enough going on with bringing Ford home from the hospital, and I admit it; I’m too proud now. I didn’t accept their insistence to help.

I want to do this on my own.

“We found her,” Cade repeats herself. “We found the missing woman, the one who can identify Gentry. She’ll testify against him.”

“Which one?”

“Pamela Ryan.” Cade’s voice chokes. “She was my best friend, and he’s held her captive for ten years.”

I don’t even ask if the victim is okay. Of course, she isn’t.

None of this is okay.

It’s horrific.

“Ten years,” Cade says again. “So don’t you ever feel an ounce of guilt because you’re lucky it wasn’t you next.” I hear voices in the background of her call, walkie-talkies squawking too. “We’re ten minutes out. The FBI. The Sheriff’s Office. We’re about to swarm your house.”

I’m outside, avoiding the gathering of assholes Gentry has invited over to watch some dumbass golf tournament. He was feeling much better today.

So good that he insisted that I fuck him this morning, and I did it with glee. Propping up my phone on the dresser while he fetched his nine-iron, I recorded it this time. What he makes me do to him while he bends over the edge of our bed, jerking off and saying the nastiest things.

It’s not sexy dirty talk. It’s his foul fantasies, and I just let him spit it all out while I recorded it, realizing now… it was also his horrifying confession.

Half of me wants to vomit.

Half of me wants to bash his skull in with that nine-iron.

My heart wishes I had known all along what he was up to. That I could’ve stopped him. That I could’ve helped those women. But my head knows he hid it too well. It’s part of his demented psyche, the arrogance that lets him lie and deceive in epic proportions. He’s so good at it.

Yeah, as a wife, a few years ago, I knew he was cheating. I thought it was with some of the women he works with, the office manager for his rental company, or the one who runs his cleaning company. I didn’t care. I just wanted him to stay away from me.

But as a woman, I didn’t know the scope of his evil until all I could do was help another woman bring him down.

If I had known all along, could I have done it? Could I have killed Gentry in his sleep?

Probably.

For those victims, it would’ve been damn tempting.

It’s a line I won’t have to cross because I can keep doing this—help those women finally get justice.

“What do you need from me?” I ask Cade.

“Where are his guns?

“As far as I know, they’re in a safe in his office. He doesn’t wear one on him.” I jeer, “It clashes with his golf attire.”

Through the French doors, I watch Gentry saunter into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge before he spots me outside, talking on my phone.

“How many men are in there?” Cade asks while Gentry starts to leer at me like he can sense my betrayal.

I smile at him. “It’s him and four others. No weapons. They’re just sportin’ loafers, polos, and enough cologne to gag a maggot. They’re guilty as hell, too, I’m sure.”

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