Epilogue
N ash
There were two places I hated most in this world, and my father’s office was the second on that list. I had the drive to take over, but biding my time to get there was more tedious as each day ticked by.
I was thankful for the partnership I’d developed with Ethan.
When my father was in a murderous mood, I’d show up at their house.
They never questioned why and let me park in their garage and crash in a room for the night.
Had it burned my ass to do it? Yes, it fucking did, but even I couldn’t handle everything my father liked to dish out. When he and Owen drank together, you never knew what they would do next.
I ran my fingers over the spines of the books on my father’s bookcase as he rambled on. “Yes or no,” he bit out, and I turned to look at him.
“Yes, I will be at the meeting,” I answered without missing a beat. He glared at me, but I didn’t give any emotion back. That seemed to confuse him, and I liked it.
“Good. We have a new supplier coming to meet with us, and if all goes well, we will grow our ammunition operation by twenty percent.” He walked away from his desk, and I envisioned pulling a gun on him. “Also, I want you to head the meeting with our new potential seller.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Because it’s time. These men are younger…up and coming. I think they’ll respond better to you than me,” he said.
“This isn’t going to be like last time where I end up in a shootout with a bunch of traitors?” I crossed my arms as my father smirked, the evil snarl of his lips easy to see in the reflection of the window.
“I don’t expect there to be any issues, but these gangs are so unpredictable,” he said casually.
Did he really think I didn’t know he had something to do with Devin and Hammer trying to kill me? I still hadn’t been able to find that weasel, Hammer. He’d vanished that night, and no one had seen him. He could be dead or in prison, but I didn’t think so, which meant he was still a threat.
“Yes, very unpredictable.”
Headlights from a car pulling in flashed against the window, and my father stood a little taller as he peered out.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he marched out of the room. I waited until he was out of sight and walked over to look outside. There were three men I didn’t recognize, but I knew at a glance that they were my father’s soldiers.
“What the fuck,” I mumbled under my breath as they opened the back door and yanked out Ren’s father.
His hands were bound, and a wide strip of tape was over his mouth.
What the fuck was going on with this guy?
I thought they were besties, all tight and shit.
I wanted to watch longer, but my father never left me alone in his office.
I quickly pulled at the drawers of his desk to find them locked.
I picked up his phone and turned it over, almost cheering out loud as I stared at the unlocked screen.
Touching texts, I read the last few conversations. Most were regular business, which I understood, but one was from Mr. Sherman, the family lawyer.
Lawrence: Where are you with the paperwork?
Sherman: It will be ready to sign tonight. Needed to make sure there were no loopholes.
Lawrence: Good. I will take care of everything on my end. This marriage contract needs to be perfect.
A marriage contract? My heart pounded harder. He had to be talking about my arranged marriage. Right?
Sherman: I assure you it is ironclad. He won’t be able to break it afterward.
What the fuck? Who the hell was I marrying that my father wanted to make sure I couldn’t break the contract?
Lawrence: Excellent.
Closing the text messages, I turned on his Find My Phone and then hit Photos .
That was a decision I regretted immediately as I stared at countless images of the people he was importing for the sex trade.
Their scared faces stared at the camera as they huddled together.
I would happily launder money and sell guns and drugs all day long, but…
this turned my stomach. I exited the photos and went into his emails, but there was nothing interesting.
I forwarded anything that I thought would be helpful and found a hidden file that held his passwords and dates of shipments, meetings, and influential people and their contact numbers.
I quickly took as many screenshots as I could and forwarded them to myself before deleting the images from his photos.
Downloading everything to my device, I erased what I’d done and placed his phone back on his desk.
“I’ll deal with him shortly,” my father called out, and I could hear him walking along the hallway.
I leaned against the wall like I was watching out the window and made sure to look as bored and uninterested as possible.
He paused as he walked into the room and looked around as if inspecting to see if anything was out of place. I nodded toward the window.
“I thought you and Neil were BFFs. What’s with the prisoner look,” I asked.
“He owes me something. I’ll deal with him. There is no need for you to get involved,” he said, which was the sketchiest thing he’d ever said to me. He might as well have waved a red flag, saying look into this.
“Whatever, he’s an annoying ass drunk anyway. I’m heading out with Liam for the night. Do you need anything else?” I pushed away from the wall, and my father grabbed my arm as I started to walk past him. I glared at his hand.
“Did you touch anything?”
I jerked my arm out of his hold. “Stop being so paranoid, old man.”
“That wasn’t a no.”
“No, I didn’t fucking touch anything. I don’t feel like having the shit beat out of me tonight.” His eyebrow raised as we stared at one another. Did he see his death when he looked into my eyes? Did he know what little time he had left?
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growled and walked away. I marched out, the excitement over what I’d been able to find hard to keep off my face. Now, it was time to pay someone a little visit.
MAY 13 – SATURDAY 11:11 PM
My fingers tapped together, and my gun sat on my lap as I waited in the dark for my prey. I glanced at the time and knew the poker game was over, so it shouldn’t be long now.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made me sit up a little straighter.
This was a shitty little house. I didn’t usually judge, but you’d think with the salary this man made for years, plus all the extra jobs he took off the books, that he’d be able to afford a place with more than two bedrooms and a single bathroom.
The cupboards were bare, and the fridge was empty except for beer.
Something, or more accurately someone, stumbled into the house, the light from outside not casting far enough to show me sitting in the living room chair.
I smiled as he crashed into the wall, trying to take off his boots.
Not bothering to turn on the lights, I watched him as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge to grab a beer.
Reaching out, I turned the little knob of the lamp beside me and loved the shocked and terrified look on his face.
“Hello, Morrison. I think it’s time we talk.”
B ook 3 INTOLERABLE BISHOP