Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series
Page 113
Ash stretches out on the chair next to ours and when he puts his glass back down on the ground after taking a sip, I thread our fingers together.
“Does that mean the dry spell is over and you feel up to it, Mounty?” he drawls, and I curse the stupid flush my cheeks get.
“I’m not sure you have gentle sex in you, Ash. You might have to wait another week or two.”
He chuckles at me, a possessive twinkle in his eye, and then he and Blaise start bickering over pointless shit and I zone them out. With a sigh, I press my head down onto Blaise’s chest and look up at the stars, Ash’s thumb running over my knuckles as he talks.
I know we’re not completely safe, I know there’s more than enough monsters hiding in the shadows for us, but right at this second I feel safe and loved and like the whole thing, all of the blood and death, pain and heartache, the whole lot was worth it.
My family was worth it all.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
EXTRA SNIPPET FROM TO THE END
ILLI
There’s blood everywhere.
It means fucking nothing to me usually but my gut curls at the sight of it. I haven’t prayed for anything since Odie was taken from me, not since the safe house at least, but I find myself fucking begging that Lips is okay.
Fuck, don’t let it be the kid. Let it all belong to Beaumont and his army of bodyguards, let it not be her.
I take the stairs three at a time, barely registering any of my surrounding except that the bodies are all definitely male so far. They’ve been hacked to pieces, strewn around, blood spatters everywhere. Fuck. There’s only one person that could be responsible for this type of death.
I make it to the top flight of stairs and start searching the fucking dozens of rooms to find her. It’s pretty fucking clear thatthis place will never come clean from this mess. We’ll have to burn it to the ground once I have the kid.
Fuck.
Please let her be alive.
Nothing. She’s not fucking here. I run past the ugly as fuck portraits and make it through the far set of doors, down a dark corridor and find myself in a serial killers play room.
Joseph Beaumont Senior is dead.
Bled out on the ground like a pig.
I’d be fucking thrilled at the sight except the kid is splayed out next to him, the Devil himself rummaging around in her guts like a fucking psycho and something snaps inside me.
“Get the fuck away from her, you fucking piece of shit.”
He doesn’t react, his head doesn’t lift up towards me at all, but my blood turns to ice at the sound of his voice.
“I’m assuming you brought a car, go get it started. She needs a hospital.”
I take two steps forward before his words register. “What the fuck did you just say?”
He looks up at me and holy fucking shit.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
“She needs a hospital so get your fucking car started before I skin you alive myself for the keys.” He says, every word out of his mouth a promise he could keep without breaking a sweat.
My eyes flick down to where he’s packed her wounds. Fuck me.
“You got her or am I carrying her down? My car is still running, let’s fucking do this.”
He ignores me, lifting the kid up and cradling her in his arms with such care I could fucking keel over in shock.
The Devil.
The kid.
Related.
Fuck my actual life, why hadn’t I seen it before?
“If she dies, I’m killing you and every last one of her friends for letting her come here alone.”
He moves fucking quick, my own legs taking a second to come good underneath me. “No fucking problem there, if she dies her guys will self-destruct.”
Acknowledgments
To Greg: Thank you for believing in me and this lifelong dream of mine. Thank you for the writing weekends away, for hanging out on the couch by yourself all night while I tap away at the keyboard, thank you for telling everyone you know about my dream and how proud of me you are.To my Mum and Dad: Thank you for everything you have done for me. For making me who I am today, for endless babysitting and support, for cheering me on, for always being a phone call away. Thank you for living across the road and popping over at the drop of a hat. Thank you for all the coffee, cake, and therapy.To my sister: Thank you for cheering me on and helping out whenever you can. Thank you for loving my kids like they’re your own and thank you for letting me do the same with yours. Thank you for listening to me ramble endlessly about things you don’t know or care about with a smile on your face.
To Laura, my ride or die. You’re perfect and our friendship the best thing this little series of mine has given me. Thank you for everything you have done for me and my family, and for this book and the little community of readers we’ve found. You’re my favourite weirdo.
To Katy, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support, encouragement, love, understanding, and dick gifs. Thank you for always being there for me when things go south with my story, which is too often.
To Sloane, thank you for all of your support and encouragement, for being available at the drop of a hat to help with my melt-downs and flailing. Thank you for all of the sprints that helped me get this book finished when I thought it might never come together how I wanted it too.
To everyone in my Facebook group, you all give me life and make this whole journey so much fun. Thank you from the bottom of my black stained heart.
And thank you to my amazing readers who gave Hannaford Prep a chance.
About the Author
J Bree is a dreamer, writer, mother, farmer, and cat-wrangler. The order of priorities changes daily.
She lives on a small farm in a tiny rural town in Australia that no one has ever heard of. She spends her days dreaming about all of her book boyfriends, listening to her partner moan about how the wine grapes are growing, and being a snack bitch to her two kids.
Also by J Bree
The Mounts Bay Saga
Hannaford Prep
Just Drop Out
Make Your Move
Play The Game
To The End
The Butcher
The Butcher of the Bay - Part One
The Butcher of the Bay - Part Two
Queen Crow
Queen Crow - Book One