Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
And yet, my gut twisted hard because Gabby wasn’t here to see any of it. She wasn’t here for the takedown, the reckoning, the justice. And the worst part—we still didn’t know exactly where she was.
I knew she’d run and that Ira had helped her. We had a few leads, but it wasn’t enough. And if she was out there in the bayou, alone, injured, trying to stay hidden, Barris would find her. That bastard would sniff her out like a bloodhound if we didn’t get to him first.
I clenched my fists tighter, feeling the pressure dig into my palms.
“Webb,” Jesse called quietly, noticing the look on my face. We’ll find her. We’ll find him, too.”
I nodded stiffly, but my chest felt like it was caving in. Gabby was tough—maybe the toughest woman I’d ever met. But she was hurt. Vulnerable. And the bayou—while beautiful and quiet on the surface—was something else entirely. It was wild, unpredictable, and unforgiving. And so was Barris. If we didn’t move fast enough, I might lose her before I ever got to tell her the whole truth that I wasn’t just in love with her. I loved her like my soul depended on it.
We were still glued to the screens when a sharp knock at the door broke through the room’s tense focus. Everyone froze for a beat—hands hovering near weapons and Malcolm instinctively snapping his laptop half-shut.
Marcus was closest to the door. He moved quickly, peeking through the crack—and then opened it wider with a stunned look.
Standing there, holding two bulging grocery bags in each hand like she was delivering homemade pies, was Gladys.
She smiled warmly, utterly unaffected by the suspicious stares she was getting. "I figured you boys might be hungry, so I brought some provisions.”
No one moved at first—but it didn’t matter. She breezed right in, patting Marcus on the back as she passed, completely unbothered by our reactions. “Oh, stop looking at me like I’m here to kill you. After everything, we’re practically old friends. Now, where’s your kitchen?”
Sasha immediately stepped forward, linking arms with Gladys like they’d been gossiping neighbors for years. “This way! Come on, we’ll set it all up.”
The rest of us stayed frozen for another second as they disappeared, chatting away like old friends.
Wes leaned toward me and said under his breath, “I have serious questions about Sasha’s sanity.”
Jackson heard it, smirked and smacked Wes lightly on the back of the head. “Only I’m allowed to say that." There was a brief pause before he added, "Because it’s true.”
Meanwhile, Gladys was unloading enough food to cater a small wedding—fried chicken, mashed potatoes, greens, biscuits, and what looked like a peach cobbler. It filled the house with a smell so good my stomach practically curled inward in hunger.
Still, I pushed toward the kitchen, needing answers more than food.
Gladys caught my approach and smiled brightly. “Relax, honey. I know Ira took Gabby.”
I tensed. “How do you know?”
“He told me,” She explained, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Said he’d keep her safe.”
I gritted my teeth. “With all due respect, how’s a man who was around when the first draft of the Bible was being written supposed to keep her safe?”
Gladys’s laugh rang out loud and genuine. “Oh, it wasn’t the first draft. It was the second one. They had Moses parting mountains in the first, and it just didn’t work. Too messy. Water was much better.”
Malcolm, still half-focused on his laptop, snickered. “I love this woman.”
Gladys winked at him. “Thanks, sugar.”
I leaned forward, trying to get back on track. “Why should we trust him with her?”
Gladys’s smile turned secretive. “Because of what he used to do.”
The entire room seemed to lean in, the air tightening with expectation.
When she didn’t continue, Marcus groaned. “What did he use to do?”
She lowered her voice conspiratorially, glancing around. “I can’t say it outright—I’m sworn to secrecy. But let’s just say he belonged to a very selective group. Black ops. Special missions. The kind of work that doesn’t officially exist. The kind where records are sealed, names are erased, and deniability is built into every layer.”
The room went absolutely still.
Remy squinted. “So... like, clandestine operations?”
Gladys grinned. “Exactly. Quiet, dangerous, and smart as hell. And Ira's loyal to the core.”
Benny let out a low whistle, his grin wide. “That’s way cooler than what I thought. I can’t wait to get old and mess with people like that.”
Sasha, smirking, asked, “What’s the difference between now and then?”
Benny shrugged, already chewing on a biscuit he’d swiped. “When I’m old, no one’ll get mad at me. Especially if I’m as cute as Gladys.” He gestured toward her with a buttery biscuit. “I mean, look at her. She even brought food while she was messing with us. That’s adorable.”
Gladys just winked at him again and went back to arranging plates as if this were any other Sunday family dinner.