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Purr (Revenge Book 3)

Page 23

by Burns, Trevion


  Veda’s eyes weren’t much different, searching Hope’s frantically. Their breathing remained as out of control as it had been for the entire drive up to that bridge. The bridge at the very edge of town. The bridge that had been closed for decades due to its unstable construction and even more unstable waters. The bridge where many kids and even animals had been carried out to sea due to the furiously strong tide. The bridge that the city had finally stepped in and shut down for good, decades ago. The bridge that had grown so neglected over the years that it had creaked with every step Hope and Veda took in their quest to get to the middle. The bridge that complained with every gust of wind that proved a little too strong. The bridge that had both their hearts racing with fear that, at any moment, it would give under their weight.

  Veda’s teeth chattered and she tried to speak, but realized there was nothing more to say. Nothing more to do. Nothing more to offer. She and Hope had already said everything that could be said on the tense drive up there.

  There was no turning back.

  So, with one sharp nod between them, Veda and Hope bent down on the bridge and claimed Jax Murphy’s body. Veda got his ankles, Hope grabbed his wrists.

  With a groan, they lifted him, setting his lifeless body on the edge of the bridge’s rails. They looked both ways to make sure the coast was clear, even though there was no need. That bridge had gone abandoned for years.

  Veda hesitated.

  Hope refused. “One,” she started, raising her eyebrows expectantly at Veda.

  Veda held Hope’s eyes, her heart in her throat. “Two.”

  They both breathed in at once, deep and shaky, and said “Three” together before pushing his body over the edge.

  Hope clutched the rail, leaned forward, and watched him fall.

  But Veda couldn’t watch.

  Not because she was remorseful. Not because she was guilty. Not because she wished he was still alive.

  She couldn’t watch because the vomit racing up her throat had caught her off guard, forcing her away from the edge, knowing she couldn’t leave her DNA anywhere near Jax’s body. So she jetted to the opposite side of the bridge, collapsed onto the railing, and emptied her stomach over the edge.

  Her guts felt like they were being tied into a butcher’s knot, squeezing ferociously with one heave after the other, so violent Veda wondered if she’d even survive it.

  Only when Hope’s hand came to her back from behind, patting it softly, did Veda’s stomach relax. As she clutched the bridge railing, watching as the last of her puke splashed into the water, Jax’s body appeared, the current already carrying his lifeless form out to sea.

  Veda kept her eyes on him, never tearing her gaze away, not even as his body began to sink beneath the surface. Even his shock-white skin vanished, no longer strong enough to overpower the darkness of the water and the unforgiving waves that swallowed him whole.

  Hope whispered in Veda’s ear, still patting her back. “We both touched him. Our prints were on his body.”

  Veda continued retching—dryly, since her stomach had already given all it had to give.

  Hope took her arms and shook softly. “It was self-defense. We had to do it.”

  Veda stared out into the water, her breathing still uneven, hoarse pants flying from her parted lips.

  “He deserved it,” Hope insisted. “He was never going to stop coming for you. Never.”

  Veda slammed her eyes closed and tried to find her center.

  She tried to find her peace.

  She tried to find her light.

  Hope’s voice warmed her ear. “It’s better this way.”

  Epilogue

  She’d come back home to kill them all.

  She’d come back home to reclaim what they’d stolen.

  She’d come back home to make them pay with their lives.

  And now that Jax Murphy had paid with his, Veda didn’t find herself celebrating, nor mourning, but instead crouched in a ball on her bathroom floor, leaning against the wall in just a bra and underwear, wondering how her entire life had fallen so incredibly to pieces in such a short period of time.

  Before she could give it much thought, the timer she’d set on the bathroom counter dinged. A loud, incessant beep filled the small bathroom and drew a gasp from Veda’s lips, stopping her thoughts before they had a chance to become consumed by visions of her screwed-up life. Visions of Gage and the pain that had clouded his face right before he’d walked out on her. Of Hope, punching Jax to protect Veda and inadvertently sending him over the edge of a cliff. Of Jax’s lifeless body being carried away by the current.

  Veda was happy he was dead. If she didn’t enjoy seeing her enemies suffer the devastating loss of their manhood more than she enjoyed seeing them breathe their last breath, she’d have done it herself.

  But she didn’t like that Jax’s last breath had been taken by Hope’s hand. She didn’t like that yet another innocent bystander had been dragged into her chaos. The list seemed to grow longer every day.

  Veda could only pray that, come morning, Jax would be too far out to sea to be found. That he was being ravaged by a great white that very second so that even if he were found, his body would be so marred and mangled that it would be impossible for the police to open a full investigation over what had happened to him.

  The timer continued to ding, louder each time it went unacknowledged, and even though the beeping did a wonderful job of divorcing her from her thoughts, Veda was too busy lunging away from the wall in the opposite direction to turn it off. The beeps grew deafening as she crawled across the tile floor toward the toilet, her pounding heart in her throat the entire way, until the beeps were reduced to a faint murmur in her pulsating ears.

  She seized the skinny white stick sitting on the rim of the toilet. The little white stick that had been taunting her across the bathroom. She brought it so close to her wide, desperate eyes it nearly touched the tip of her nose, trembling under her quaking fingers as her gaze shot down to the stick’s control window.

  The moment she saw the bright pink plus sign glaring up at her from that window, she realized her life definitely wasn’t done falling incredibly to pieces. Falling completely out of her control.

  No, the destruction was only getting started.

  And apparently, no matter how many promises she’d made to herself, she wasn’t yet done dragging innocent people into her madness.

  Apparently, she could now add one more person to that list.

  Her eyes flew to the waste bin. A hot pink First Response box sat at the top of the trash pile, confirming what that bright pink plus sign signified.

  Her stomach tightened and she dropped the plastic stick to the floor, leapt for the toilet, clutched the rim with all her might, and emptied her stomach into the bowl.

  Three down.

  COMING SOON

  The Revenge Series: Number Four

  News and Updates on Trevion Burns:

  Newsletter

  Facebook

  Email

  Also by Trevion:

  The Revenge Series:

  Quiver: Number One

  Tingle: Number Two

  Purr: Number Three

  Stereo Hearts Series:

  Stereo

  Encore

  The Romanovsky Brother’s Series:

  Taming Val

  Claiming Roman

  Loving Leo

  Finding Gary

  The Almeida Brother’s Trilogy:

  Lila's Thunder

  Thunder Rolls

  Lightning Strikes

  Stand Alone Novels:

  Dead or Alive

 

 

 
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