Read Online A Shred of Truth by Eric Wilson - Free Book Online Page B

You’re on the clock.”
    “But at school, we—”
    “That’s different. That’s college. Here I’m your boss.”
    “Ohhh.” Above solid shoulders, Diesel let his expression turn bland. “I get it.”
    “What?”
    “You’re afraid.”
    I coughed out a laugh. “What?”
    “It’s just like the stuff we’ve been talking about in class. Fear and lies.”
    My arms felt charged at my sides. In times past, less provocation would have led me to do severe damage to someone’s face. It cured the red and black squeezing in on my vision every time.
    “Shouldn’t have said anything,” Diesel mouthed. “I’m getting back to work.”
    “You do that.”
    Heading back into the kitchen, I found Anna Knight at the stainless-steel triple sink. Even with elbows deep in suds, she had a glow that seemed to fill the room and draw me toward her.
    “Just finishing up,” she said. “You need help out there?”
    “Diesel’s got it covered. Any idea where my brother ran off to?”
    “Sorry. I’ve been busy washing up. How’s your day going?”
    “Fine.”
    “Hardly a convincing answer.” Anna peeked past me. “Is it Diesel? He’s been in a mood all afternoon, and nothing I say seems to placate him. He’s really not interested in taking orders from me.”
    “When I’m gone, you’re in charge,” I assured her.
    “Yes, but … I think he resents it a bit.”
    “And you thought you were done raising kids. I’m afraid you’ve got your hands full with me and Diesel.”
    “You? Hon, you’re a piece of cake.”
    I put a finger to my lips. “Careful. I’ve got a reputation to protect.”
    “Heaven forbid.” Anna slipped her hand from the soapy water and set it on my forearm. “You do know, don’t you, sometimes women like to see a soft side, some vulnerability?”
    “I don’t do ‘vulnerable.’ Made that mistake not too long ago.”
    “You’ll have to do it again.”
    “Who says?”
    “If you ever hope to find true love.”
    “Been there. Right now I’m just hoping to find Johnny Ray.”
    From Anna’s fingers, a caravan of soap bubbles trekked down my skin and washed over the edges of my tattoo. I ripped a paper towel from the dispenser above the sink and mopped at the suds.
    There it was, my call to action, in glistening green and blue.
    Live by the Sword …
    In the span of eighteen hours, someone had carved into my brother, blackmailed my ex-girlfriend, spun lies about my mother, and tried to snare me with empty promises. I could not sit by. I would not. Axman wanted me to relive my pain? Good. I would run to embrace it.
    Die by the Sword …
    Yes, I’d pull my memories close and squeeze every drop of grief from them until they were dead and gone, unable to harm me. No more waiting. Time to act.
    I marched out the door, got in my car, and peeled away from the curb. At the first intersection, a traffic light came slowly into focus through my quagmire of emotion. Red light … red light … red …
    Brakes!
    I mashed the pedal to the floor and corrected the Honda’s rubber-burning slide. A horn blared, and a man in a yellow hard hat gave me a one-fingered salute as his SUV slid by.
    “Same to you, pal!”
    I checked my mirrors, panned the traffic for any glimpse of a Hyundai sedan. Why had AX cut my brother? Why had he turned his attention to me? If he was after Lewis’s centuries-old gold, how had he known to come knocking on our door?
    The dash clock said it was a quarter past six.
    Okay. Forget playing nice. The moral high road sounded so smug, so righteous—until the threats became personal. First I’d find Johnny Ray and Felicia, take them down to the station, and place them under police protection. Then, after nightfall, I’d sneak onto the Cheekwood estate to retrieve my gun. Prey would become predator.
    New ways, schnew ways … I’d do what had to be done.
    Chop, chop.
    On the steering wheel, my fingers itched for the weight of my Desert Eagle, for the familiar resistance